


i'll give you all kinds of new material

by MissMarissa



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bellamy has a ridiculous pornstar name, Clarke gets a new toy, DTR, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Horny!Clarke, Meet-Cute, Meeting the Family, Mutual Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, PornStar!Bellamy, Praise Kink, Protective Octavia, Rated L, Sex Toys, Smut, and teaches Bellamy how to use it, but also completely sweet, but with a helping of emotional constipation, filthy as hell, just a ton of pleasant fuckin', maybe a little bit of plot, okay full-blown plot now, these idiots are crazy about each other, you know - standard bellarke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-28
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-04-23 20:04:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 52,930
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4890298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMarissa/pseuds/MissMarissa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt:<br/>Clarke meets her favorite porn star, Bellamy (you can make him have a pseudonym for his movies or not; the choice is yours). So, yeah, run wild with this. I just demand a shit ton of smut. I don't care what happens. Just Bellamy and Clarke getting it on.</p><p>-----</p><p>OR: The Pornstar Bellamy AU that took on a life of its own. </p><p>----</p><p><b>Chapter 6:</b><br/>Clarke never ceases to surprise Bellamy. He takes a moment to verify the scene in front of him, because yeah, that’s his girlfriend, watching porn on her laptop. He recognizes it, one of his videos from before they met, and one of her personal favorites.</p><p>[But first… Clarke meets Octavia.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Bittyab18](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bittyab18/gifts).



> Thank you, BittyAB18 for this fun prompt! I had a lot of fun writing it, and I hope you guys enjoy it, too.

 

Clarke is an exhausted, overworked resident. Residency sucks. Especially when she’s worked six nights in a row. It’s the same routine every morning she comes home after a night shift… She kicks off her disease-covered shoes at the front door and immediately strips out of her hospital-issued scrubs and tosses them into the pile of dirty ones that sits by the door. She should find a better place to put these, but it’s easier to find them if they don’t make it to her room. Not to mention, her room is her sanctuary. Work does _not_ get to invade her bedroom. She stands there in her tank top and underwear and stares at the heap of greenish colored garments, then realizes she’s been standing there for a while. Shit, she’s forgotten why she’s even staring. Her brain really needs to rest. 

She desperately wants to flop down on the couch and pass out, but she’s sure she’s covered in MRSA, and really doesn’t want disgusting bus- and hospital-contracted microbes all over her furniture. _Must shower…_ With a tired sigh, she shuffles to the bathroom. She smirks when she sees that she’s still got her phone in her hand, and feels a familiar heat building up between her legs. She turns the hot water on and lets it run, and it takes fucking _forever_ to get hot because this apartment is shit. Because she’s a resident and the salary is shit (Yet another reason residency sucks)... Wait, what’s she doing? Oh right, water. Shower. Phone. _Ooooh, phone_ … As she waits for the water to heat up, she strips off the rest of her clothes, then searches for the zip-lock baggies she keeps in the bathroom so she can take her phone with her into the shower and watch her favorite naughty video while she gets herself off under the running water. Just as she finds one under the sink, she hears the telltale chime of her phone telling her that the battery is nearly dead. Goddammit.

It’s difficult as hell, but she resists pleasuring herself while she’s showering. She wants to wait until she can play a video, because everything feels so much more intense when she has sound and visual aids. She rushes to lather her hair with shampoo, then rinse it out before slathering it with conditioner. She lets that soak in while she shaves her legs. She rises to rinse the conditioner out of her hair, and _dammit_ the water is getting cold. By the time the conditioner is fully washed out, the water feels like ice against her goosebump-covered skin. She hurriedly dries herself off and goes into her room. She’s thankful she lives alone, because it would probably be awkward to walk around naked if she had a roommate.

Clarke opens up her laptop and presses play on her favorite video. The title is something absurd, like _The Penetrator_ or something, but it’s the star, Rammer Bobby, (or “Bobby,” as she calls him) that she’s drawn to. And oh _god_ she’s into him. Like, she seeks out his films. She went to an adult film convention a few years back, in large part because he was there. No it’s not stalking – it’s not like he was the only porn star there.  She was legitimately curious about the adult film industry. She knows that male porn stars aren’t as famous as the females, so she wasn’t surprised that stars like Jenna Haze and Gianna Michaels couldn’t even be _seen_ inside the throngs of fans surrounding their booths.

Still, Bobby’s booth was popular. There were tons of women lined up for his autograph. Most of them seemed normal, waiting for him to sign things like his posters or videos. a few of them were really brazen and had him sign some vulgar body part. Which of course he’d do, with a flirty smile. Clarke considered getting in line herself, but she didn’t bring anything for autographs. She didn’t realize that was a thing. 

She’s pretty sure she had a minor heart attack when he looked her way at her and winked as he gave her a vulgar once-over, startling her so much she dropped her purse. She cringes at the memory. She just stood there, frozen in a pool of carnal greed while he raked his gaze over her body. She couldn’t seem to get her feet to move and by the time she snapped out of her lust-filled haze, he was being called away for something. Chance gone. Oh well. But after that, she had… _needs_. She’s not ashamed to admit that she had a very vivid self-love session when she got back to her hotel room.

In this particular video, Bobby talks seductively to the camera while he gets himself off. That’s one her favorite things about him – he’s a very vocal star, which, a lot of the men are. But something about him is just… wonderful. Like the way his deep voice drips like honey onto her skin. While Bobby slowly strokes himself, he plays with his nipples, which is an act that Clarke never thought she’d find appealing. But when he does it, it makes her crazy with want. Clarke licks her fingers, then gently circles her clit with them, reveling in the zings of pleasure that shoot through her with this first contact. She teases then dips her middle finger into her slit to gather the wetness pooled there, then slowly circles her clit with it.

Video-Bobby says he can’t wait to sink his cock into her pussy, talks about how good it’ll feel to be inside of her. Clarke frantically opens the drawer to her bedside table and feels around blindly for her Rammer Bobby dildo. Yeah, that’s right, a dildo shaped like his cock. No, it’s not creepy. It’s not like _she_ commissioned it. He’s a porn star, so it's no surprise that his cock sells dildos. So she bought one. And she fucking  _loves_ it. 

She sighs with relief when she finds it, and immediately brings it to her pussy, teasing her entrance with it and gathering the wetness there. She releases a hoarse moan as she slowly pushes it inside of her, ignoring the chill of the silicone, instead focusing on Bobby’s rousing gaze as he eye-fucks the camera while stroking himself. She shudders as she pulls the cock out, then pushes it back in, over and over again.

As Bobby’s strokes get faster, she fucks herself harder. She explores the curves of her body with her free hand, until she reaches the apex of her thighs, where she rubs small, tight circles over her clit. She feels that sweet, sweet pressure coiling low in her abdomen as his graveled voice utters all kinds of profane words… and oh _god, there it is…_ She’s found just the right angle that has her bucking her hips against her hand while she gets closer and closer to her release. She looks down at her body to see her breasts rocking up and down with her movements and she finds she’s wildly turned on by the image.

She holds off her orgasm until Bobby comes. The sound of his coarse groan as he comes sends her right over the edge. The pent-up bliss surges through her body as she arches her back off the bed. She tries her hardest to be quiet, because the walls here are paper-thin. Maybe that’s why she shakes after these orgasms – the strength she uses to keep herself from screaming out loud makes her muscles quiver with fatigue…

She flops back against her pillow to catch her breath and slides her toy out. She looks at it in her hand and smirks, “Thanks, Bobby,” She reminds herself she needs to clean it before she puts it away. She trudges to the bathroom in a daze and cleans Bobby, because hygiene. When she brushes her teeth, she feels the tingle of the minty toothpaste against her gums. She wonders what oral sex would feel like if the giver just brushed their teeth _. Hmm. Food for thought…_ She shuffles back to her room, sated and serene, curls up in her bed, and drifts off to sleep.

* * *

When Clarke wakes up, it’s dark outside and she’s hungry _._ She wraps herself up in her robe and heads to the kitchen to find something to eat. She runs into a problem when she gets to her fridge and finds nothing but condiments. No deli meats, cheeses, fruits, vegetables, nothing. She finds nothing appetizing in the cabinets, either. She chastises herself, _Clarke, you’re a grown adult. You need to keep actual food in your home._  She can hold out until she gets to the hospital cafeteria. Then she remembers that this is her night off. The first one in several days. She was really looking forward to spending the whole time lounging in her PJ’s and binge-watching TV shows on Netflix, like she does with most of her nights off (when Raven doesn’t drag her out to meet people. She’s not ashamed to admit that she has no social life right now.). But, food… Her stomach makes an inhuman growling noise, so she resigns herself to the fact that she’ll need to leave the apartment.

She goes to her closet and picks out clothes that aren’t scrubs, which is odd. She puts jeans on for the first time in three weeks, and the sensation of the denim hugging her curves is almost foreign. She wears a real bra for the first time in weeks, and is pleased by how amazing her boobs look tonight. She’d almost forgotten about how awesome they look in real bras, since they’ve spent so much time confined in sports bras, contained and out of the way while she’s at work. In the interest of showcasing her assets, she pulls a deep V-neck top over her head. She slips her feet into some flats, glides some lip gloss onto her lips and brushes some mascara over her eyelashes.  When she looks in the mirror, she almost doesn’t recognize herself and makes a mental note to wear non-scrub clothes more often.

Clarke walks to the grocery store a few blocks away, only mildly concerned about the vagrants who eyeball her as she walks on the sidewalk. She almost never goes grocery shopping, which is stupid, because she really shouldn’t be spending money on takeout. She makes her way through the non-perishables and picks up crackers and other non-nutritive shit she probably shouldn’t be eating. She picks up a loaf of bread, because she can always make toast or something. She finally makes it to the produce section. She’s filling a bag with apples when she hears his voice. _His_ voice. The one that she listened to as she brought herself to a quaking orgasm just hours ago. And _holy shit_ , she’s already getting wet.

He's on the phone. “No, I’m not at home, I’m at the store… What makes you think I have no friends? ...No, not all of my friends are work friends.” Clarke hears him laugh fondly, “Fine, if it’ll get you to stop bugging me, I’ll call Miller or something… Bye, O.”

He stares at the honeydew melons quizzically, holds two up next to each other and squeezes them suggestively. Okay, maybe it wasn’t suggestive, but it’s not Clarke’s fault that her mind’s default setting has become “SEX” in his presence. Clarke almost wants to roll her eyes at the smirk that plays across his face. Yeah, the squeezing was definitely suggestive. He pokes at them and huffs before he turns to face her. He grins like a Cheshire cat when he gives Clarke a once-over, halting briefly at her (admittedly fantastic) chest as he squeezes the melons again.

“Are these supposed to be so soft?”

Clarke looks around in confusion, “Are you asking me?”

He chuckles, “Yeah. Do these feel too soft?” He squeezes at the melons again with a grin she almost wants to call lewd. “Who else would I be talking to?”

Clarke shakes her head, embarrassed, “Sorry, I was just surprised. Normally strangers don’t talk to other strangers. Not in this part of town, anyway.”     

He shrugs, “You could tell me your name, then you won’t be a stranger.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow, “That’s terrible logic.”

His lips quirk into a smile, “It’s a pickup line. Logic isn’t a big part of the equation.”

Clarke’s eyes widen, “Wait, you’re hitting on me?”

He chuckles, “Is that a problem?”

Clarke opens and closes her mouth a few times, unsure of how to reply, before she finally just shakes her head, “Uh, no. I guess not.” She huffs a nervous laugh, “My name is Clarke.” He holds his hand out and they share a firm, albeit awkward, handshake.

“It’s nice to meet you, Clarke. Now that we’re not strangers, can you tell me if these melons feel right to you?”

Clarke scoffs playfully, “Hey, I told you my name, and you didn’t tell me yours. Rude.”

He laughs, “Oh, sorry. I'm Bellamy.”

Clarke narrows her eyes and tilts her head, “Is that right?” She knows this, of course. She’s read Rammer Bobby’s Wikipedia page. Born Bellamy Blake in 1984. Still, she’s dying to know where the pseudonym _Rammer Bobby_ came from.

He smirks, “I’m pretty sure, yeah.” He looks pointedly at the melons, “So?”

Clarke hesitantly reaches out the squeeze the fruity mounds, and yeah, they’re pretty grossly soft. “Yeah, I think they’re a little too soft to be natural.”

Bellamy shrugs, “Huh... And here I thought natural melons _were_ soft.”

Clarke pinches the bridge of her nose, “Oh god, I didn’t mean to say ‘natural,’ I meant _edible_. They’re too soft to be edible…” She clears her throat, “But yeah, natural ‘melons’ are usually, um, softer.” He smirks at her and she feels herself turning a fierce shade of red. She laughs and hope she doesn’t sound too awkward, “Are we really talking about breasts in the produce aisle?”

He shoos her a playful grin, “Breasts? I was talking about fruit. Wow, Clarke. Get your mind out of the gutter.” As if her mind can be anywhere _but_ the gutter with her favorite porn star standing in front of her.

She laughs, “Right. Because the way you’re fondling those looks completely innocent.”

He chuckles, “Yeah, no… It’s not innocent at all.” He smiles at her again, and she thinks her heart just skipped a few beats. “It’s a good thing you were here. These would have been a questionable purchase.”

“You really would’ve bought those?”

He shrugs, “I guess we’ll never know.” After some awkward silence, ~~Bobby~~ Bellamy asks, “Do you live around here?”

Clarke huffs, amused, “Do you have _any_ experience talking to strangers?”

He chuckles, “No, not really. At least not in grocery stores at night. I usually defer to my sister with this kind of thing.”

Clarke smiles, “Well, if she were here, she’d tell you not to ask single women where they lived.”

“So you’re single?”

“ _That’s_ what you got out of that sentence? Wow, you really _are_ tragic.”

He smirks, “But for some reason, you’re still talking to me.”

Clarke thinks, _holy shit this guy is dangerously easy to talk to._ She gives him a lop-sided grin, “Yeah, for some reason.”

He shuffles his feet awkwardly, and _shit, awkward is an adorable look on him._ As if he needed to be any more appealing. He almost sounds shy, “So, um… There’s a diner around the corner from here. I was thinking about getting some dinner there, because fuck cooking.”

Clarke nods with a smile that she hopes doesn’t look sad, “Oh. Okay. Well, have a good dinner. It was nice meeting you.” She turns around and starts to walk away, because she’s awkward and wants to save herself the embarrassment of whatever she was going to do. Because that man is the walking embodiment of sex, so it’s only a matter of time before she jumped him or something.

She hears him sigh as he catches up to her, “Shit, Sorry. I’m really not good at this. I was trying to ask if you wanted to join me. My treat.”

Clarke wants to pinch herself because she’s pretty sure she’s being asked to dinner by a porn star. Her favorite porn star.

“Uhm… okay?” She chuckles, “I mean, yeah. I’d love to.”

She checks out with her groceries, which thankfully fit into the single reusable bag she brought along with her. During the short walk to the diner, she learns Bellamy is surprisingly polite. It makes her laugh a bit inside, because Rammer Bobby is typically this alpha-male asshole in her favorite films, manhandling his partners (which Clarke may or may not find _incredibly hot)_. However, Polite-Bellamy is a nice surprise. He carries her grocery bag for her, he lets her hold onto his arm when she has to leap over a questionable-looking puddle in the sidewalk, and (much to her disappointment) he doesn’t once try to feel her up during their walk. When they get to the diner, he even holds the door open for her like a gentleman. They pick a booth and sit across from each other.

While they look over the menu, Bellamy breaks the silence, “So, Clarke. Tell me something about yourself.”

She thinks for a second, “I like my eggs scrambled...”

He smirks, “Noted.”

“Oh god, I wasn’t trying to suggest anything. I’m not…“ She sighs and stares fixedly at the ceiling as she mumbles under breath, “Fuck me…”

He chuckles, “Is that also supposed to be _not_ suggestive? Because when you say _fuck me_ ….” he trails off with a knowing grin.

She brings her hands to cover her eyes, “My mouth is just betraying me left and right.”

“I think it’s cute.”

Clarke looks up at him, “Okay. I should just come clean. Because I’m pretty sure you think that I’m just this dumb blonde with a sex-addled brain…” He gives her an amused grin as she continues, “I’ll clear you up on the dumb part right away and inform you that I’m a doctor. But the sex-addled brain part…”   She pauses and he waits patiently for her to keep going. “Jesus, how do I put this without making it even worse?” If she tells him she recognizes him, she’s essentially admitting to watching porn… Which, fine. She’s a grown adult and she’s not ashamed of sex. Still, she squeezes her eyes shut and brings her hands up to cover her burning cheeks…

“I, um… I know who you are.”

She hears the groaning shift of vinyl rubbing against vinyl and cautiously looks up to see if he’s left or something. She’s met with the image of Bellamy leaning back against the booth, arms stretched out over the back of the seat, wearing a shit-eating grin if she ever saw one.

“Well, I guess that saves us the awkward ‘what do you do for a living’ conversation.”

Clarke gives him a lopsided smile, “That’s true.”

He brings his arms down, leans his forearms against the table, and clasps his hands together. “Is it a problem for you?”

“Is what a problem?”

He chuckles, “My job.”

Clarke huffs a laugh, “You mean the fact that you have hot sex on camera for a living?”

“Yeah, that.”

Clarke shrugs, “Well, if I understand correctly, you guys have rigorous and regular STI testing regimens. And it’s not like you’re doing porn in seedy hotels with prostitutes. You guys are pretty safe about it, right?”

Bellamy nods, “Yeah. Safety is a big deal.”

Clarke smiles, “Then I don’t see a problem.”

He returns her smile, “Good. Because I like you.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Well, I know your name. And you claim you’re a doctor, and-”

She brings her hand to her chest in feigned offense, “Are you questioning my claim that I’m a doctor?”

He chuckles, “I don’t know, I mean, you obviously have proof of _my_ profession.” He lowers his voice and leans across the table, “And I fully intend to find out just how _much_ proof.”

Her raspy voice is barely above a whisper, “Are you asking me how much of your porn I’ve seen?” When he nods, she huffs, “It’s a little early for that question.”

He shrugs and leans back again with a smirk, “I think I’ll get the answer out of you.”

She gives him a cheeky smile, “I don’t doubt it. But I can still make you work a little for it.”  The waitress interrupts them for their drink order, and Clarke abruptly sits up straight again. She feels a little like she’s been caught by the principal or something, but she’s grateful for the intrusion. She’s legitimately concerned that the longer she’s left unattended with ~~Bobby~~ Bellamy, the less likely she’ll be able to control herself. She clears her throat and orders a soda. The waitress leaves and Clarke finds herself in something of a staring contest with Bellamy.

The silence is comfortable, but she breaks it anyway. “So, does your job, like, get you laid on the regular?”

Bellamy snorts, “Well, considering that the nature of my job is _fucking_ …”

She cuts him off with a laugh, “That’s not what I meant. I meant outside of work. Do you get recognized a lot? Like when you go out in public?”

He shakes his head, “No, not really. When people watch porn, it’s usually the girls they’re watching.”

She nods, “That’s a fair point.”

“Also, not many women admit to watching porn.”

She feels a distinct heat spreading across her cheeks to the tips of her ears, “Well… I’m not one to play dumb. Anyway, it would’ve slipped out one way or another.”

Bellamy shrugs, “I appreciate honesty. It’s not something I’m embarrassed about, but I figure it’s a deal-breaker for a lot of women.”

She’s feeling a mixture of brave and brazen, “Let me be real with you for a second.”

He leans forward. “I’m listening.”

“I want to fuck you.”

He just nods, entertained, “You certainly don’t mince words.”

Clarke shrugs, “I don’t see the point in delaying the inevitable, because I think you want to fuck me, too.”

He smirks, “That’s accurate.”

“So why are we wasting time with dinner?”

His gaze is downright salacious, “Because, we’re gonna need the energy.”

Clarke _actually_ shudders at his words. She clears her throat and wills her voice not to shake, “Noted.”

The waitress comes back with their drinks, again snapping Clarke out of her daze. They order something to eat, not too heavy, but substantial enough to satiate her starving stomach. She would be appalled by how obviously they’re eye-fucking each other in pubic, but the activity is the only thing that’s keeping her from leaping across the table onto his lap.

It takes all of her self-restraint to make conversation, but she makes the effort anyway. “So where do you meet women?”

“On set, usually. I’ll be honest, I haven’t been on a date with a woman outside of the industry in years.”

Clarke frowns, “Why’s that?”

“So we’re gonna have this conversation already…”

Clarke is suddenly concerned, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry. I was just curious.”

He shakes his head, “That’s alright. Maybe table that discussion for later?”

Clarke nods with a gentle smile, “Okay. Later, then.” She’s surprised that he’s considering the concept of _later._ She’s not going to delude herself into thinking this is anything more than it is: A (hopefully) fantastic fuck. But now that he’s mentioned it, she doesn’t think she’d be opposed to a repeat, assuming all goes well tonight.

Their food comes quickly, and they continue to chat while they eat. She has to make a concerted effort not to ravenously gorge herself on her dinner, because she’s both starving and in a hurry.

Genuinely curious, she asks, “So, how _real_ is the sex you have on camera?”

“Depends on what you’re asking. It's real, but it’s not exactly _realistic_ sex.”

“Are the orgasms real?”

“It depends on the scene. But most of the time, yeah. I mean, I know there are times a girl has had to fake it for the camera, like when we’re on our fifth position and she’s already come a few times. The audience likes the final orgasm to be dramatic, but sometimes that’s not the reality…” Clarke is trying to control her lust, but this is honest-to-god becoming unbearable. He continues, “On the flip side, there have been times when a girl’s come so many times, it’s hard for her to walk after. I don’t really like doing those scenes.”

“What kind of scenes?”

“Forced orgasms. I mean, it’s all consensual. But it’s painful as hell for her.”

Clarke nods, “Oh. Wow. I hadn’t thought about that.” Well. That cools her loins, but only _barely_. “So do you get any real pleasure out of the scenes?”

He laughs, “Hell, yes.” He looks up at her, “We’re talking about fucking, here.” After giving her a grin, he continues, “I have more choice in terms of scenes nowadays. I don’t do hardcore scenes as often anymore.”

“How come?”

He shrugs, “I don’t get much enjoyment out of them. Usually, the director wants so many angles that I’ll be literally pounding the fuck out of a woman for two and a half hours straight so they can capture all the perspectives in half a dozen positions, and by the end of it my dick is practically numb. But, I still have to put on a show and come like it’s the best orgasm of my life." He huffs a laugh, "A lot of those positions aren't exactly pleasurable.  They just look really hot on camera. Not to mention, it’s like a straight two and a half hours of fucking cardio.”

Clarke laughs, “Literally. It’s _fucking_ cardio.”

Bellamy smirks, “Pun not intended, but I’ll take credit anyway.”

“Wait, you can keep it up for an two and a half hours?”

His darkened gaze leaves her nearly _vibrating_ with need. “Clarke, I can keep going all fucking night…”

In a desperate attempt to restrain her libido, she tries to change the subject, “What kinds of scenes do you do instead?” Okay, maybe that wasn’t exactly a libido-quashing question…

“I do a lot of straight sex scenes. Not quite softcore, but something in between. More focused on the one-on-one sex, making a connection with your partner, even if it is just acting for the camera. I guess it’s more female-friendly.”

She grins, “I’ll say.”

He snaps his gaze to hers with a lascivious smile, “Do you have a favorite?”

She tries (and fails) to suppress the violent blush creeping all over her body as she chews and swallows the last bite of her dinner. “I might.”

His deep voice is graveled, “Tell me what you like, Clarke.” She is uncomfortably aware that her underwear is positively _soaked_ at this point.

Her nerve endings _ignite_ under his smoldering gaze. She looks him straight in the eye, “Pay the fucking check and you’ll find out.”

* * *

When they exit the diner, he holds the door open for her as she goes through. She barely makes it a few steps on the sidewalk before he grasps her hand in his and tugs her back into him, slanting his mouth over hers in a toe-curling kiss. It feels like everything on the planet is reduced to this moment, her lips fused to those of this fascinating man, one hand behind her neck, another firmly anchored to her waist. She parts her lips, allowing him to deepen the kiss, and she thinks she’d probably tip over if it weren’t for his steady grip, because he’s quite literally taking her breath away.

They come up for air, and she takes in his kiss-swollen lips as they curve into a gentle smile. This is more intimate than she anticipated. Not that she didn’t want to kiss him, but holy shit, he’s a good kisser.  

She smiles, “Your place or mine?”

“Mine is a few blocks east of here.”

Clarke nods at the building at the corner of the block, “Well, mine’s right there. And if I’m thinking if we have to trek multiple blocks, it’ll probably end up with you fucking me in an alley or something.” The thought alone sends a bolt of lust through her, and who knew she had a public sex kink?  

He grins, “Your place, it is.” He laughs, “Unless you’re _wanting_ the whole alley sex thing.”

She shakes her head with a laugh, “My place is slightly more comfortable than an alley.”

It takes an exceptionally long time to make it to the other end of the block, mainly because he keeps pressing her into the side of a building to make out some more. As flawless as his kisses are, she really wants to be wearing less clothing. Actually, she wants to be wearing _no_ clothing. She drags him along until they get to the her apartment building, trying her hardest not to drop her keys as she fumbles to unlock the downstairs door. It is absolutely not helping that he’s nibbling at the back of her neck while his hands are teasing at waistband of her jeans.

He growls into her hair, “I swear to god, if you don’t get that door open right now, I’m fucking you right here.” Clarke shudders at his words. His hand slips fully inside her pants, and his fingers teasingly find their way between her folds. She’s tempted to just drop her keys and see how far he’ll really go. Again, the public sex kink is a surprise, one she’ll have to revisit another time, because the door is finally open and they stumble into the foyer. He ravages her neck while they wait for the elevator, only interrupted by a judgmental clearing of the throat by Mrs. Smith from 7B. Clarke pushes him away with a laugh as the three of them pile into the elevator. She's pretty sure that if her neighbor wasn’t there to give them disapproving glares, Bellamy would have her naked by the time they reached her floor. When they get to her floor, she grabs him by the hand and pulls him along, practically sprinting. She figures that if she keeps him moving, they have a shot at making it to her apartment still clothed.

She manages to get her apartment door open quickly, and by the time it shuts, Clarke has pushed Bellamy against the wall, standing on her toes to press her lips against his. He groans into her mouth as she begins to unbuckle his belt, palming him through the fabric. He grabs her by the wrist to stop her as he walks her backwards to another wall. Okay, clearly he likes to be in charge. And that is _just fine_ with Clarke. She squeaks when her back hits the wall and feels like she’s about to melt into a puddle of lust when she feels him wrench her arm behind her back.

He pauses a second, “Give me a safe word.”

She smirks, “My safe word is _‘safeword.’_ Are you gonna get rough with me, Blake?”

He laughs as he pulls back to look at her, “I didn’t tell you my last name.”

She scoffs, “Oh, please. You’ve got a Wikipedia page for fuck’s sake.”

He raises an eyebrow, “You’ve looked me up on Wikipedia?”

“Maybe,” She shrugs, completely unapologetic.

“Shit. You _are_ into me.”

She laughs, “I may or may not have attended a porn convention in Vegas back in 2013 to see you.”

He pauses, “Wait. The AVN Adult Entertainment Expo? January 2013?” Clarke nods, worrying her lower lip between her teeth. He laughs, “Shit. I knew I recognized you. The blonde who wouldn’t get in line.”

Clarke’s mouth drops open, “What?”

He laughs, “Yeah, holy shit. You were wearing a white shiny top, but it was covered with like, a cardigan or something. You looked totally out of place. I mean, you were one of the only woean there wearing actual _clothes_."  He rakes his eyes over her form, "You were totally stunning.” He huffs in amusement, “Yeah that was definitely you. I kept hoping you would come over, but you just stood there. I couldn’t tell if you were glaring or salivating.”

Clarke laughs, “Oh my god, salivating. Definitely salivating.”  

“I had to go do a photo op for a film they were promoting, but I sent my agent’s assistant over to see if you’d come over.”

Clarke shakes her head, “No way. You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Not kidding. But she couldn’t find you.”

Clarke is still a little bit stunned by this revelation. “You thought I was stunning?”

He raises an eyebrow, “Have you seen yourself?”

She laughs in disbelief, “I’m a hot mess, Blake. Stunning is the last word I’d use to describe me right now.”

His free hand makes its way under her top and he wraps his fingers over her ribcage, just underneath her breasts. He lowers his mouth to her ear and breathes, “It’s _exactly_ the word I’ll use to describe you.”

Clarke shivers as she closes her eyes, “Oh my god.”

He whispers, “I usually go by Bellamy.” He lets go of her arm and both of his hands travel to her ass. She gets the hint and lets him pick her up, her legs instinctively wrap around his waist.

“Now, I’m going to fuck you until you _scream_.” 

Clarke nods feverishly, “Yeah, you should do that.”

He grins as he carries her down the hallway. He opens a door and turns on the light and Clarke laughs, “Wrong door. This is the bathroom.” She realizes just a second too late that “Bobby” is still sitting proudly on her bathroom counter. And yup, Bellamy sees it. She squeezes her legs tighter and buries her face into his neck, hoping to hide her embarrassment.

After a moment of silence, “Is that-?”

Clarke huffs against his neck, “No comment.”

With one hand still underneath Clarke’s ass, he grabs the dildo and inspects it.

“Holy shit, Clarke. You’ve got my dick.”

She gasps, hoping to portray naivety, “What? What makes you think-”

He pulls her head away from his neck so he can see her face and gives her a smirk that clearly calls her on her bullshit. “I think I know what my own cock looks like. Not to mention, the name is right here on the base.”

She rolls her eyes and scoffs, “ _Fine…_ It’s yours.” He looks her over with a grin that on any other day would leave her feeling downright scandalized. But tonight? She wants to fuck that grin right off his face. She gives him a challenging smirk, “I can do some pretty sensational things with that cock. Think you can do better?”

He huffs, “Oh, you have no idea what you’re in for.”

Clarke tamps down a shiver, instead giving him a (hopefully) unimpressed glare. "Wow, you talk a big game..." He huffs with a shrug of his shoulders, and yeah, she's pretty sure he'll deliver. She adds,  "And by the way, my room is on the _other_ side of the hallway.”

His voice is teasing, “Am I gonna find posters of myself in there or anything?”

Clarke shakes her head with an amused sigh, “I tend to keep my depravity hidden, so no, I don’t have _posters_ of you on my wall. Jesus…”

He stumbles across the hallway and opens the door to the bedroom. He turns on the lights and looks around, “Okay. So far, it all seems normal.” He deposits her onto the mattress and she props herself up on her elbows to take in the view. He stands up and peers around a little more, “Do you have a shrine or anything that I should know about?”

“Oh my god! No! That-” she gestures at the dildo in his hand, “-is as far as it goes.”

He laughs, “Relax. But, you do know you’re never going to live this down, right?”

Clarke huffs and mutters, “Of all the days I have to run into my porn star crush…”

He tosses the dildo to the side and kneels down on the bed, inserting his knee between her thighs, purposely grinding it gently into her heat. He tugs at her shirt hem so she sits up and lets him peel it off while she works her own hands underneath his shirt. She revels in his shiver when she scrapes her fingernails across his abdomen. He pulls his own shirt off, revealing airbrush-perfect abs. She’s genuinely skeptical, so she licks a finger and drags it across, just to see if there’s makeup or something that will smear off. Nope. The man is a perfect specimen.

She sighs, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

He laughs, “I spend a disgusting amount of time at the gym.”

“That makes me feel a little better. Because if you were one of those naturally built people, I’d be, like… ugh.”

The smirk on his face is ridiculous, “Well, the gym just perfects what’s naturally there.”

She smacks at his chest with a laugh, “You’re a cocky asshole.”

“I won’t deny that.”

She gives him a daring grin, “You going to back up that cockiness?”

“You bet your ass I am.” He unhooks her bra and pulls it off of her, then pauses to rake his gaze over her body. “Jesus, are these natural?”

Clarke laughs, “What do you think?”

“At the store, I figured they were fake because they were like, perfect. And after the whole firm/soft conversation, I just kinda assumed.” He squeezes at them in each hand, then pushes them together with undeniable fascination, “Shit. These are your god-given tits.”

Clarke shrugs, amused by his stupor, “Yeah, I know. They’re pretty awesome.” He just keeps staring at them with this awed look on his face, and Clarke’s not gonna lie, that’s a huge confidence booster coming from a guy who spends his days surrounded by perfect breasts.  

Bellamy shakes his head, “You don’t understand. Like 95% of the girls I’m with are surgically enhanced. And they _feel_ fake. Like, sometimes I have to stop myself from laughing on set because I feel like I’m squeezing giant stress balls or something.” He caresses her with near-reverence, “These feel amazing.”

Clarke kind of doesn’t know what to say, so she just gives in to the greed coursing through her and releases a shameless moan as he rakes his fingernails across her sensitive nipples.

“And shit, you really feel this, don’t you?”

Clarke gives him a quizzical stare when she breathes, “What do you mean?”

“Not to get too medical in bed here, but a lot of the girls’ augmentations go through the nipple, for aesthetics.”

She nods, “Oh. Yeah. I thought that was supposed to go back to normal after a while, though.” He raises an eyebrow in question, and Clarke continues, “I wasn’t bullshitting you that I’m a doctor. I’m not in plastics, but I remember the basics.” She keeps thinking it through, “Now that I think about it, I remember learning that the larger the implant, the more likely there’s damage to the nerves… and considering the size of pornstars’ breasts… Man, that sucks for them.”  

He smirks, “Yeah. Still, the camera loves nipple play. It’s ridiculous, some girls don’t even realize I’m messing with their nipples at first, so they’ll look down and see what I’m doing, then start making all these moans that are obviously fake.” He tweaks her nipples with a wicked grin, seemingly delighted with her involuntary (and very vocal) reactions.

She groans, “Well, stop talking about it, and _do_ something. And enjoy the fact that every little sound that-” he closes a mouth over her nipple and sucks, effectively derailing her train of thought as she cries out in undeniable pleasure. He takes it between his teeth and bites gently, looking up at her face to gauge her reaction. She nods, “More…” so he pulls it away from her body and releases it to give attention to her other breast. When she brings her hand up to play with her recently abandoned nipple, he grabs hold of her wrist again and pins it to the mattress above her with a growl. And _shit_ that’s hot.

He shakes his head, “I’ll take care of you.” He smirks, “Now sit back and relax.”

Clarke brings her other hand above her head and clasps them together with a nod as she teasingly bites down on her lower lip.

He does _not_ disappoint. He alternates his play between his hands and mouth and the effect is fucking blissful. He moves lower and Clarke realizes she’s still wearing her jeans. He makes short work of the zipper and Clarke lifts her hips up so he can pull them off her hips. She’s confused because she's still wearing her panties, but when he gently bites down on her mound with them still on, she’s indescribably turned on by the act. He travels lower, hands still playing at her breasts, and mouths her through her underwear, and why has she never fantasized about _this_ before? She resigns herself to the blissful sensations, gasping when he finally noses her underwear over so he can suck her clit into his mouth. She bemoans the abandonment of his hands on her breasts until he starts using them down _there_ and oh. god. He licks into her while his thumbs trap her throbbing clit, then switches so his fingers crook against that wonderful spot inside of her while his mouth does sinful things to her clit, and the sensations keep building and building as she reaches her climax. She feels like her body levitates off the bed when the pleasure comes crashing down on her, and afterwards she’s left feeling like she’s bobbing in an ocean while she comes back to her senses.

She opens her eyes and sees him smirking up at her from between her knees. She sighs, “Not like you need me to stroke your ego,  but you’re pretty fucking good at that.”

He laughs, “Yeah, I know.”

She huffs while she pulls him back on top of her, “And so humble, too.” At some point he must have ditched the rest of his clothes, and she realizes her own panties have disappeared, as well. If she’s being honest, the building around her could’ve burned down and she’d have been blissfully unaware of it. Still…

“I have a condom, but just one.”

She smacks her hand at her bedside table, “Use mine. They’re not expired, or worn down because of being squished in a wallet for however long that one’s been there…”

He laughs, “I know better than to put them in a wallet. Remember, my occupation depends on effective prophylaxis.”

Clarke huffs, “Still.”

“Size?”

She smirks, “Magnum, asshole. Now suit up.”

“You make a habit of sleeping with the well-endowed?”

She shrugs, “My ex-girlfriend liked me to use Bobby on her for anal, and I always use condoms on toys if they’re going that… direction.”

He stops a second and ducks his head down. “Holy. Fucking. Shit.” He looks back up at her, “So not only are you genuinely bisexual. But you named my dick. After me. And used it to fuck other girls.”

Clarke nods her head with a wicked smirk, “Yes to all of the above. And I also use it to fuck _myself_ on the regular.”  

He shakes his head, “Fuck.”

Clarke laughs, exasperated, “Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to make happen here!” She sits up and stretches back to retrieve a condom out of her side table. She rips it open and rolls it onto his throbbing length with a satisfied grin, “See? Told you it’d fit.” She pushes him onto his back and straddles his waist, pleased that she was able to distract him enough to get him in this position. “I think I like you on your back.”

He grins as his hands find their way to her breasts again, “I don’t mind the view from down here.”

She rises on her knees high enough to position herself above him. She closes her eyes and lets her head drop back as she sinks down, relishing the way he fills her up. When he’s buried to the hilt, she lifts her head back up and meets his gaze.

“Oh. my. god. This is so much better…”

He thrusts his hips up gently in response, “Told you.”

Clarke chuckles as her body adjusts to his intrusion, “You’ve ruined your toy for me, so fuck you for that.”

He smirks while his hands make their way to her breasts, “Babe, I haven’t even gotten started yet..." She clenches around him, just to see what it does to him. His eyes slam shut. "Oh fuck, you feel fucking incredible."  

She starts to experimentally move her hips in a slow back-and-forth rocking motion while he pulls and plays at her breasts, still with that stupid grin on his face. She finds her favorite motion on Bellamy’s real-life cock is to roll her hips back and forth while rising and sinking over him. He meets her thrusts skillfully, which isn’t a surprise to Clarke. Remembering her favorite Rammer Bobby jerk-off video, she rakes her fingernails along his areolas, first lightly to test. Satisfied with his shivering groan, she scrapes a little harder, and this awakens something primal inside of him. He holds onto her hips with a bruising grip and holds her down on him while he thrusts up into her, and something about the controlling clutch he keeps on her is incredibly erotic. She lets her eyes drift closed while he grinds his pubic bone up against her clit, and she startles herself with her responding cry. She opens her eyes and sees him smiling up at her, and she thinks her heart just skipped a few beats. He’s not supposed to be smiling, he’s supposed to be smirking like an asshole, because this is raunchy casual sex, not love-making. This sweet-looking man below her is disconcerting.

Suddenly she’s on her back. If the smile was supposed to be a distraction, it certainly worked. He turns her to her side and straddles her bottom leg while he holds the top leg high and thrusts into her. She almost screams at the sudden and beautiful invasion. She barely has a moment to catch her breath before he starts to move within her, winding her up like a goddamn top. She can’t figure out what to do with her hands, so she fists one hand into the sheets above her while the other one makes its way to her body, wandering deliciously along her curves. She feels his fingers intertwine with hers, which is nearly disarming in its intimacy. 

"Fuck, you feel so good, Clarke... So good around me."  She finds it difficult to formulate sentences, so she limits her replies to appreciative moans.  

His other hand anchors itself around her thigh while he thrusts madly into her, then makes a teasing trail to her clit. He presses down and lets up a few times before he starts making circular motions in time with his thrusting. She feels a luscious pressure coiling up inside of her, so exquisite it’s almost painful to keep inside. As if her body is trying to figure out how release this sublime tension and the only way out is through him. His thrusts become brutal as they stroke that magical spot deep inside of her and she bites her lip so hard she thinks she may have drawn blood.

She cries out, “I’m so close!”

He nibbles on the back of her leg by his face and she can feel the beaded sweat on his forehead drip down to the place where his lips meet her skin. “ _Fuck_ , Clarke. You wanna come on my cock, don’t you?”

She nods frantically, “Come with me… Please, I want you to-” She’s cut off by his intensified efforts on her clit. His thrusts become harsh, vicious, wild.

The raunchy voice she loves on video has nothing on the filthy strangled groans she’s gifted from the real thing, “Do it! Come on my cock, Clarke... I wanna feel it... C'mon, together.”

Her whole body shakes as she gives in, and their mutual release is nothing short of _glorious_. She wishes the condom weren’t there because, even through the clenching of her own walls, she can feel the pulsations of his cock as he shoots his cum out, and _fuck_ she wants to feel that inside of her… She lets herself relax into the mattress underneath her while her chest heaves. Bellamy pulls out and stands up off the bed.  Clarke admires the view of his perfectly toned ass as he walks into the bathroom to dispose of the condom.

She rolls onto her back when he comes back in and smirks at his disheveled hair and swollen lips. She isn’t sure what happens now – she doesn’t do one-night-stands, so she’s not sure of the protocol here. She figures she’ll play it by ear for now, so she’s pleasantly surprised when he flops down beside her onto the mattress. He props one hand up behind his head while the other one is trailing up and down her naked torso.

“I really like sex off camera.”

Clarke laughs, “Me too. Though, toe be fair, I’ve never had sex _on_ camera.”

He laughs softly, “I like when nobody’s acting. I like feeling an actual connection with someone. I like that connection with you.”

She feels her chest squeeze a little, so she coughs, as if the action will force feelings away, “It was good. Really fucking good.”

He smiles again, one of those radiant smiles that meet his eyes. They lie there in comfortable silence for a while, until Clarke’s stomach growls embarrassingly loudly and they both break down in laughter.

He her in the eye, “Please tell me you didn’t leave the grocery bag at the diner.”

She shakes her head, “No, I dropped it by the front door somewhere.”

They both roll out of bed. Clarke stretches her arms above her head, genuinely loving Bellamy’s fascination with her breasts. “I need to use the restroom. Will you find us something to eat? It’ll all be in the grocery bag. I’m only a marginally functioning adult, and I don’t have much food in my cabinets.”

Bellamy chuckles as they walk out of the bedroom, “And we’re supposed to trust you with peoples’ lives?”

Clarke laughs, “I hope you feel reassured, knowing our big secret.”

“What big secret?”

She laughs on her way into the bathroom, “That doctors have terrible health habits.”

He smacks her playfully on her ass, “My worried lips are sealed, doc.”

Clarke closes the bathroom door and looks at herself in the mirror. _I just fucked myself a porn star…_ She’s not ashamed to admit that she’s impressed with herself. After she’s done using the restroom, she comes out to see Bellamy, in his naked glory (same as her), sitting at the dining room table, making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

He hears her and turns around, “I found peanut butter.”

She nods, “I see. You’re doing it wrong, though.”

He scoffs, “Excuse me?”

She shakes her head with teasing condescension, “You have to put the peanut butter on both sides.”

“No, _that’s_ wrong. If you do that, there’s too much peanut butter.”

She gasps, “Take that back. There is no such thing as too much peanut butter.”

He laughs, “There absolutely is.”

“Fine, maybe there is such a thing, but if you don’t put peanut butter on both sides, the jelly leaks into the bread and it gets all soggy.”

He huffs, “With sugar!”

“That’s disgusting!”

He smirks as he closes up his sandwich and takes a bite. “It’s perfect.”

She makes her own sandwich, correctly and somehow dramatically, spreading peanut butter on both sides and jelly in the middle. She cuts it down the center and now it’s his turn to throw a fit.

“Dear god, woman. You slice it the wrong way, too!”

Her mouth drops open, “I do _not!”_

He laughs, “Just eat your goddamn sandwich.”

She takes an exaggerated bite of her delicious, correctly-made, perfectly sliced sandwich and makes a show of groaning wantonly to make her point.

He smiles and nods his head, “Fine. You win. You like your version better.”

Clarke “hmmmphs” and continues eating.

After a minute she asks, “Rammer Bobby. Where the fuck did that come from?”

Bellamy laughs out loud, “It was a joke, actually. When I started doing porn ten years ago, I didn’t intend to stay in it. It was just like, ‘Hey, this pays well, and I get to fuck hot girls. I’m in.” So my friend Miller and I used to have these challenges on who could come up with the most absurd pseudonym for upcoming shoots. Well, in the film that kick-started my career, I was “Rammer Bobby” and the name stuck.”

Clarke laughs, “You couldn’t change it?”

He shrugs, “I could’ve, but I didn’t. Kind of an inertia thing, I guess. It’s a big hit with ladies and the studios like to market it.”

Clarke nods with a grin, “I hear you.”

After a few minutes of companionable silence, he asks, “You asked earlier why I hadn’t been on a date with a woman outside of the industry in years.”

Clarke nods. Her mouth is still full, so she just says, “mmm hmm.”

“It’s because I didn’t want to get to a place where I couldn’t do my job.”

Clarke swallows her bite, “A relationship would keep you from doing your job?”

“A serious one would. If I were in a meaningful relationship, I wouldn’t _want_ to do my job. I would feel like I was hurting someone.”

Clarke nods, “I can see your point.”

“So I decided to wait until I was finished with porn to pursue relationships outside of the business. I didn’t want it to become a point of contention, or cause resentment on either side.”

“That’s smart, actually.”

“Yeah.” He chews and swallows the last bite of his sandwich. “I’m retiring.”

Clarke nearly chokes. Bellamy comes up behind her like he’s ready to do the Heimlich, but she shakes her head and successfully clears her own airway. Once she’s recovered enough to breathe normally, she asks, “Why the fuck would you do that?”

Bellamy laughs, “Because I’m 30. Almost 31. I have no desire to be Ron Jeremy, so I’ve been working to slowly extricate myself from the business. I’ve been in school for the last nine years, and I’ll have my Ph. D in December.”

Clarke’s mouth drops open, “Holy shit. That’s awesome.”

He smiles, “I’ve have a job offer for an Archivist position, and I’m taking it. I told myself at the beginning, once I could get a job I liked better than porn, I’d quit porn. And this archivist position is exactly that.”

Clarke smacks him playfully on the shoulder, “So, you’re a doctor.”

He laughs, “I _will_ have my Doctorate. Got a few months to go. But yeah.”

“Well, good job. I’m really happy for you.” She huffs with a smirk, “I mean, I’m kinda pissed. Because I’ll won't have any more new material to work with.”

Bellamy furrows his brows, “New material?”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “Porn, Bellamy. Porn. I have my favorites, for sure, but I’m always looking for more of you!”

He chuckles and looks almost nervous, “Well, I’d like to keep seeing you… if that’s something you’re interested in.”

She grins teasingly, “I think that’s the least you can do, Blake.”

That beaming smile of his is back, “I’ll give you all kinds of new material.”  

“Good. Because I don’t think I’m ready to give you up just yet. And I don’t think my 'Bobby' toy is gonna cut it anymore. No thanks to you.”

“You done eating yet?” His grin is downright filthy.

She barely finishes nodding her head before he’s thrown her over his shoulder for round two...

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~ Bellamy's POV ~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, FINALLY, chapter two!  
> First, I want to say THANK YOU so much to everyone who commented and left kudos on the last chapter - it's thanks to you that chapter two exists :) Seriously it was so awesome to get that kind of response, so thank you all. 
> 
> Second, I apologize for taking so long to get to this - I have two other fics that I'm also pretty invested in, so splitting my time between all three of them... (Why did I do this to myself?!) 
> 
> I want to thank Amber (OhAlaskaYoung on AO3, bilexualclarke on twitter)for beta-ing this for me. And, of course, another shout out to Mandy (BittyAB18), who sent me the prompt for this fic :) 
> 
> If there's anyone who commented on this fic who hasn't received a response, I'll be getting to yours soon!

For Bellamy, the timing of all of this has been surreal. He didn’t intend to pick up a woman at the grocery store, but he wasn’t about to pass up the hot blonde who cheekily called him out on his melon molestation.

Rammer Bobby has a legion of fans, but he’s never met one outside of a porn convention before. Now, responding to and communicating with fans is a big part of what keeps him in business. It’s a vital part of every porn star’s job nowadays if they want to stay employable. If fans aren’t demanding more of a performer, the studios aren’t going to keep hiring them. There’s a phrase, “It’s easy to become a porn star, but it’s hard to _stay_ one.” It takes very little talent to strip down naked and fuck someone on camera, and the sheer number of people willing to perform sexual acts on film seems to be growing as the general public embraces sexual freedom of expression. Performers realize quickly that they are easily replaceable, and to stay relevant, they need to develop a base of loyal devotees. Porn stars need their fans to be posting, clamoring for more on message boards. That’s why it’s imperative for them to communicate with their admirers.

Rammer Bobby gets, on average, fifty messages a day, and he makes it a point to read and respond to each one of them. Most of the time, the messages consist of something along the lines of “OMG you’re fucking hot and I loved you in that video.” There have been a few people that were borderline obsessive, but those are few and far between. His favorite part of fan communication is when he gets emails from people who had positive experiences watching his films. It makes his day to get a message from someone who says, “Hey, I tried this move from that video, and it made my girlfriend/wife/partner crazy. Thanks, man.” Hearing about the positive effect of his work is probably what has kept him doing porn for so long. Sure, he enjoys fucking, and he’s pretty happy to get paid to do it, but getting messages like those give him a sense of satisfaction in his job.

All of Bellamy’s online presence is strictly of his Rammer Bobby persona. Rammer Bobby has a website and a blog, and he’s very active on twitter. Bellamy Blake, however, is a ghost. His name and year of birth are public knowledge (much to his chagrin), but other than that, his personal information is basically nonexistent. He doesn’t have facebook or twitter. _Bellamy_ essentially has no online existence, short of an email address known only to his sister and closest friends. He owes that to Miller’s boyfriend, Monty, who he pays to routinely ensure that Bellamy’s personal information is impossible to find.

Bellamy has never been recognized in public before. So when Clarke admits that she knows who he is, he’s a little surprised. He hasn’t heard anything from his more zealous (read: obsessive) fans in a while, and he’s never actually been found by any of them, thanks to Monty. He supposes that maybe she _could_ be a new fanatic, one who is highly skilled in the art of tracking people down. On the other hand, she’s really hot. So, he decides to give her the benefit of the doubt. And yes, it has everything to do with the fact that she’s completely gorgeous. He has no shame in admitting that he’s thinking with his dick right now.

He’s intrigued by the way she goes from shy to brazen in a matter of seconds. Her ears turn bright red with all of her accidental innuendo, but a minute later, she’s telling him that she recognizes him as a porn star. Granted, her cheeks are still the color of a fire engine at that point, but she’s essentially admitting that she not only watches porn, but watches it enough to specifically recognize _him_.

Much to Bellamy’s delight, by the end of dinner, Clarke is downright forward in her advances. When she tells him she wants to “be real” with him, he’s not sure what to expect, but he certainly hadn’t predicted her actual words: _“I want to fuck you._ ” It’s surreal to hear something like that in real life. No cameras or lines being recited. No throngs of fans echoing it out at a convention. Just Clarke plainly commenting she wants to fuck him, as if she’s saying that she’s chilly and wants a sweater. And of course she calls him out, “ _I think you want to fuck me, too._ ” That statement is a thousand percent accurate. Hell, it’s an exercise in restraint not to take her right then and there (diner patrons be damned). Once they leave the restaurant, he can’t keep his hands off of her. It’s like they’re drawn to her body like magnets, and thank god she’s just as into him.

Then it hits him. She mentions the AVN expo and the memory hits him like a freight train. The blonde who wouldn’t get in line. Octavia is going to give him hell for this when she finds out. He was signing autographs as usual, interacting with his admittedly awesome fans. Then he caught sight of this captivating blonde. It’s hard to define exactly _why_ she was so fascinating. Maybe it was the fact that she was dressed more conservatively than most of the women there. Or maybe it had something to do with the glint in her eyes as she drank him in. He recalls feeling a little like she was staring an actual hole in his head with the intensity of her gaze, “I wasn’t sure if you were glaring or salivating.”

Clarke laughs, “Oh my god, salivating.” Then why the hell didn’t she come over? A question for another day…

She’s a lot of fucking fun, too. He gives her a lot of shit about her Rammer Bobby dildo, but she takes it in stride. And, unsurprisingly, she gives as good as she gets. Yeah, he’s kind of a cocky asshole, but that seems to be something she’s into, so he’s happy he doesn’t have to pretend to be something he isn’t. Not that he’s a bad guy. He just happens to be a bit _abrasive_ sometimes. They trade off light-hearted barbs and he finds he’s already a little bit addicted to the sound of her laugh.

And _holyfuckingshit_ her tits. They’re fucking incredible – the perfect balance of soft and firm, and he’s loving how responsive they are. He relishes every greedy moan that comes out of her, and when he goes down on her, she nearly drowns him in her own arousal. And god, the noises she makes are incredible. Don’t misunderstand, he’s used to eliciting these kinds of sounds during sex, but from Clarke, they sound so _authentic_. Maybe it’s because he hasn’t fucked someone outside of the industry in a while, but he’s legitimately captivated by her.

Earlier, Bellamy was amused at her embarrassment (and her attempts at denial) when he accidentally found the dildo. But she appears to get over the shame quickly, because now she doesn’t hesitate to tell him about how she used it to fuck her ex-girlfriend with it. In the ass. He feels like that’s worth mentioning again. Fucked her ex-girlfriend in the ass with his dick… This woman is unreal.

When Clarke finally sinks down onto him, he’s not quite prepared for how _perfect_ she feels. She’s slick and hot, and he really fucking wishes he could feel her without this stupid condom. The ones she has fit, and it’s not like the rubber is cutting off circulation to his dick or anything. But... The thing is, he _never_ fucks without a condom, so he’s taken aback by his sudden desire to ditch it. In California, all sex workers are required by law to wear protection. He smirks when he thinks about the fact that the San Fernando Valley has probably funded the condom industry into the next century at this point. Even before that, he wasn’t one to take chances, on or off-film. He’s seen performers out of work for weeks when they have to deal with a sexually transmitted infection, which can cost thousands of dollars in income. Not to mention, there are plenty of STI’s that _aren’t_ curable.

Bellamy has never had a problem with condoms before, in fact, he’s a fan of them. But the temptation to go bare tonight is painfully strong. Thankfully _her_ head is in the game, and she doesn’t make any suggestions to forego protection, otherwise he’d probably just go right along with it. She’s the perfect blend of tight and supple around him, and he’s about to lose his goddamn mind. When Clarke scrapes her fingernails across his areolas, a jolt of arousal shoots through him and it’s like autopilot takes over. He grips firmly onto the flesh of her hips and holds her in place while he fucks into her. While he’s thrusting, it dawns on him that she’s the first person, besides himself, who has paid deliberate attention to his nipples. In a typical M/F scene, the focus is on the girl’s nipples, not the guy’s. He tweaks his own during some of his solo scenes, but he’s never requested that kind of attention in shared scenes. When Clarke does it, it feels incredible (though it poses a severe threat to his stamina).

Bellamy gets her off twice in the first round before they’re both hungry for actual food again, so he searches her remarkably bare cabinets for sustenance. She wasn’t kidding when she said she didn’t have much food. He withholds judgment, considering that she occupies her time with more pressing matters, like saving lives and shit.

They fall into an easy banter, critiquing and mocking each other’s peanut butter sandwich styles, and he finds that the more they talk, the more he likes her. They talk a little about his job while they finish their snacks. When Bellamy started doing porn, he never imagined that Rammer Bobby would be as in-demand as he’s become. Still, he doesn’t want to do it for the rest of his life. From the beginning, he’s considered porn a “placeholder” for an actual career. It suited his lifestyle when he was in his early twenties, when he was uninterested in relationships or settling down in general. He had no delusions that he would be able to maintain a normal relationship as a porn star, but that wasn’t his concern at the time. But now he’s 30, and things have changed. He’s not a believer in things like “fate,” but it’s a hell of a coincidence that he’s met someone like her just as he happens to be leaving the industry.

He’s amused, if not flattered, by Clarke’s reaction when he announces he’s retiring: “Why the fuck would you do that?!” Her outrage would make him laugh if she wasn’t choking on her sandwich in surprise. He didn’t honestly think it was that big of a deal. He explains how he’s been in school for nine years, and how his dream job is waiting for him after he gets his doctorate in December. Then she says, “So you’re a doctor,” like she’s actually impressed, which is surprising because she’s the kind of doctor that saves lives. He just saves artifacts. But, he supposes that after nine years of working his ass off, it’s okay for him to boast a bit.

Bellamy decides that he _really_ wants to keep seeing Clarke after this. Yeah, they just had phenomenal sex, but great sex isn’t something novel to him. Okay, yes, he’s already acknowledged that there _was_ something remarkable about tonight, but that’s not the only reason he wants to see where this can go. He’s been drawn to her since the melons in the grocery store.

He cautiously tells her, “I’d like to keep seeing you…” The minute he says the words, he wishes he could take them back. Not because they aren’t true, but he thinks there’s some sort of unspoken agreement that this is a casual one-time hookup, at least that’s the impression he’s been getting. He figured he’d butter her up and convince her (with more fantastic sex and witty banter) that he would make it worth her while to consider something more after tonight. He wasn’t going to push it just yet. Except now he has, and he’s reeling inside as he waits for her to respond.

He’s relieved when she gives him an answering grin, “I think that’s the least you can do, Blake.” The last-name thing is different. She called him “Blake” earlier, too. He hasn’t heard her say his actual name except maybe once, but thinks he’d like to hear her scream it by the end of the night. With that in mind, he sweeps her up and tosses her over his shoulder to take her back to the bedroom.

With a quick smack on the fleshy pads of ass, he bends over and drops her onto the mattress, but before he can straighten back up, her arms encircle his neck and she pulls him into a deep, slow kiss. He gives in immediately and he covers her body with his own as they languidly explore each other’s mouths, kindling the blaze underneath their skin. She squirms underneath him, tries to hurry him up, impatient for more. He smirks against her lips and maintains a deliberate, thorough pace.

She whines, “ _Bellamy…”_ And _there_ it is. Yeah, he _really_ likes the way his name falls off of her lips.

“Say it again.”

Clarke shoots him a knowing grin as she embellishes each syllable of his name with throaty moans and whines. _“Bell-a-my!”_  

He attaches his lips to her neck and growls, “Louder.”

She pushes his face away and raises an eyebrow, “Make me.”  

He gives her a wicked smirk, “Challenge accepted.”

She relaxes back into the mattress with an eager grin and an indulgent wiggle, which makes her tits bounce _just right_ , and he thinks his brain just short-circuited.

Bellamy is perfectly aware that he’s already got something of an obsession with Clarke’s tits, and he can’t wait to give them more attention. But, if she’s going to tease him, he’s got no problem making her squirm a little more. He rises up to a kneeling position, purposely looming over her writhing form. He runs a finger down her chest along the valley between her breasts, then drags his finger in a slow spiral around the soft globe of flesh, inching closer and closer to her engorged nipple. He flashes a mischievous smirk when she arches her back in an attempt to chase his finger to where she wants it.

"You're such a fucking tease..." She whines. 

He smirks and plays her other nipple the same way, relishing her frustrated whimpers as he brushes his lips along the underside of her rounded breast, then follows the path of his finger with his tongue. When she’s panting with exasperation, he _finally_ closes his mouth over her nipple and gently sucks it into his mouth, laves his tongue over it. It’s the same treatment he gave her clit earlier, and it has the intended effect of making her absolutely crazy underneath him. After a slightly more powerful tug, he releases it with a wet smacking noise and blows gently on the glistening tip so it pebbles up to full attention. He moves to her other breast, and before she can complain about the abandonment of the first one, his hand comes up to knead and pluck at the sensitive bud.  

He feels her fingers tangle their way into his hair, tightening their grip almost painfully whenever he hits a particularly responsive spot. As he explores the rest of her body with his mouth, he lingers on the places that have her whimpering. He makes his way lower and, much to her annoyance, bypasses her pussy entirely to nibble on her thighs. She groans in protest until his lips attach to a spot behind her knee.

“Oh, _god…_ ” Bellamy grins at her surprised expression when her eyes shoot open. She looks down at him, lips parted slightly, “That’s... new.”

He nips at the tender skin, then soothes the spot with his tongue before he lifts his head with a smirk, “I bet I'll teach you all kinds of things tonight.” She bites her lower lip between her teeth, and something about the gesture sends a surge of arousal through him, and he finds himself grinding into the mattress in search of some sort of relief for his achingly hard cock.  

The action doesn’t go unnoticed by Clarke, whose mouth drops open, “Holy shit, you really get off on getting _me_ off, don’t you?”

Bellamy huffs, murmuring into her inner thigh, “Oh, you have no idea.” Her blue eyes hold his gaze as he makes his way up to her heat, then flutter closed when he fans his warm breath over her sex. He trails his tongue over her mons, nibbles lightly at her outer lips before parting her dripping folds with his tongue. He savors the tangy flavor of her arousal as he tongues his way into her slit, drawing a guttural moan from the woman spread out wantonly in front of him.

Now he finds himself in a dilemma of sorts. He got her off with his mouth earlier, so he knows she’s fucking delectable, but somewhere between closing his mouth over her clit and lapping up her juices as she came, she threw her head back and he couldn’t see her face from between her legs. And really, he’s not complaining that she was too caught up in the throes of pleasure to look down at him. But he wants the chance to really _see_ her as she falls apart. He wasn’t nearly coherent enough to truly watch her when they were fucking, either. It turns out being buried balls deep inside of her made his head cloudy with want, and it was pretty goddamn difficult to think straight when they were both chasing each other’s orgasms. The best he could do was make sure she came first… Which, _thank god_ , she did.

He lifts his mouth away from her pussy and moves back up to her face again.

She whines at the absence, “But-”

Bellamy cuts off her protest with a devouring kiss, which she returns with matching ferocity. He yields to the burning desire that drives him forward, settles himself in the cradle of her hips. She sneaks her hand between their bodies and wraps it around his thickness. He’s snapped out of his lust-filled haze when he feels his entire body drive into her small hand. He shakes his head with a gentle smile as he wraps his hand around her wrist and pulls it out from between them, instantly grieving the loss of contact.

“I know, baby.  I know... Patience… Let me take care of you.”  His tone is reassuring, almost sweet.

Clarke sighs into his mouth as she pulls him down for another kiss, bucking her hips so his cock slides along her slick thighs.

“ _Fuck,_ Clarke…”

She nods with an eager grin, “Yes, please.”

A groan escapes him as he regains composure, then props himself up on his forearms to look down at her. “You know what I want to do?”

She raises a sultry eyebrow, “Tell me.”

His voice is low in her ear as he sneaks his fingers between her legs, “I want to fuck you with my fingers so I can see your face as you come _undone_ around them.” As if to punctuate his words, gathers her juices on his fingertips before painting the entirety of her pussy lips with the viscous product of her arousal. Her jaw slackens and her pupils are so blown he can barely make out rings of blue around them.

His grins at her speechlessness, “You’d like that?”

She nods frantically, “ _Please…_ ”

"Fucking look at you, all wrecked for me... Fuck, I haven't even gotten started." 

He cups her cheek with his large palm and draws her into a demanding kiss while he continues to probe her sensitive folds with his fingers. She breaks the kiss with a broken gasp when he finally flicks his fingertips over her throbbing clit. He slants his mouth back over hers, swallows her moans as he rubs firm circles around her swollen bundle of nerves. When she bucks her hips up, he presses the heel of his hand over her mons to hold her still, grinning at the desperate jerks of her hips when she tries to chase his nimble fingers.

Bellamy can’t suppress his strangled moan when Clarke grasps onto his cock again, but her warm hands threaten to end this as soon as it’s begun. He’s close to blowing his load from merely _looking_ at the writhing woman underneath him. She bemoans the loss of contact when his hand leaves her pussy to catch her wrists and pin them above her head. She growls and jerks her body forward, desperate to attain some sort of friction.  

Using one fist to keep her arms pinned to the mattress, he returns his free hand to her cunt and uses his finger to trace slow circles around her opening, gradually making his way inside her. He strokes his fingers along the contours of her inner walls before he dips a long finger into her slit to gather more of her wetness. His ears practically ring with the suckling sound coming from her pussy.

“Holy. Fuck. Clarke.”

The only noise falling from her lips is her uninhibited cry as he returns to rubbing fast and firm circles over her aching clit. He presses his forehead to hers as he speeds up his efforts, tightening his motions as she bites her lower lip between her teeth. The desire in her eyes is surely reflected in his own as her body thrashes around in search of release.

Bellamy releases her wrists to tangle his hand into the hair at the crown of her head, tugging her head back to face him fully. She yelps in surprise when he plunges three fingers into her slit, then anchors his thumb over her mound, effectively enclosing her pubic bone in his large hand. Her wanton cries are spurred on when he vibrates his hand against and inside of her. He sees her hands flail around, desperately seeking purchase somewhere. He releases her hair and grabs hold of her wrists again, crossing them over her chest and holding them tight against her, allowing her fingers to pull and tweak at her nipples. And holy shit, that’s a sight to fucking behold.

“Ohmygodohmygod _Bellamy_!” Clarke keens and pleads her voice to hoarseness as her orgasm builds. The tendons in her neck look like they might burst as she closes her eyes and surrenders to his carnal torment.

He feels the thickness of his graveled voice as he coaxes her to climax, “Are you gonna come for me, Clarke?”

She nods furiously, “F-fuuck, _yes!”_

“Do it. Open your eyes and come for me,” he demands.

Clarke opens her eyes and snaps her gaze to his while her entire body seizes in climax. Her mouth falls open in a silent scream as her orgasm crashes over her, followed by a wrecked, drawn-out cry while her inner walls pulsate powerfully around his fingers.  While her body shudders, Bellamy earnestly studies her beatific expression.  

"You're fucking beautiful... I could listen to you come all fucking day."  

He grabs her hair by the crown again and pulls her up to meet him in an all-consuming kiss, swallows her raspy moans as she comes down from her high. Her arms, now freed, wrap around his shoulders and she crushes herself against him. 

They come up for air and Clarke’s chest is heaving as she recovers. Bellamy forgets he has his fingers twisted into her locks until she claws at his forearm. He releases it abruptly, apologizing as he massages and soothes her scalp.

His voice is laced with concern, “Shit, was that too much?”

Her silence is alarming, and he thinks maybe he crossed a line. She huffs and pushes him off of her as she sits up suddenly. Panic floods his body because he’s sure he just fucked everything up. Then, in one swift movement, she rises to her knees and spins around, pushing him roughly onto his back. She swings her leg over him and sinks down onto him without warning, enveloping him in her dripping warmth, drawing from him an unrecognizably lecherous groan.

And oh, holy shit, _this_ is why he wanted to ditch the condom earlier. He can feel every bit of her velvety inner walls against his cock, and every single movement makes him hungry for more. He’s at war with himself over whether to be responsible or just give in.

“Hold on a sec.” He brings his hands to her hips and holds her still while he clears his head. It pains him to ask, “Condom?”

She whimpers in frustration (he’s excessively pleased with the crack in her voice), “Are you clean?”

He nods, “Absolutely.” He thinks about it, “I got test results back three days ago.”

She huffs, “I’m clean and on birth control. Fuck the condom.”

He pauses for a fraction of a second, then tells himself he’ll go ahead and overthink this later. So for now, “Fuck it.”    

Thank god she needs absolutely no time to adjust to him at this point. She rocks her pelvis backwards while she rises up onto her knees until only the bulbous head of his cock stays inside her, then rolls her hips forward as she sinks back down, taking him all the way into her silky warmth. He’s mesmerized by the junction of their bodies, watching his cock disappear into her over and over again. He meets her thrust for thrust and they quickly find a satisfying rhythm that will undoubtedly have both of them over the edge in mere minutes.

Not wanting this to end so soon, Bellamy sits back up to capture her parted lips with his. She wraps her arms around his neck again, tangling her fingers into his inky curls as he ravishes the long line of her neck with bruising kisses. He anchors an arm behind himself for leverage as he drives into her again. They’re nearly _too_ in tune with each other’s needs, because he’s ready to fall apart again within mere minutes, and judging by her increasingly erratic movements, so is she.  

He sits straight and stills her hips with his hands. “Slow down. We’ve got all night..."  His voice soothes, "Easy now, I'll take care of you...  I've got you.”

Clarke huffs in agreement as he feels them both ebb back from near-climax. He lifts her off of him and pats the mattress next to him. “Face down.”

Clarke complies, but not before shooting him a questioning glance. He revels in her shuddering sigh as he plants open mouth kisses on her back, tracing his tongue into the grooves of her shoulder blades. As he moves farther up her body, he hooks his right hand under her knee and bends it as he coaxes it far up on the mattress, spreading her wide open. She props herself up on her forearms, while arching her back to give him better access to her cunt. He positions himself at her entrance and cages her form between his arms as he brushes his lips along the shell of her ear. He watches the way her hands fists into the sheets while she feels the vulgar thoughts he whispers against her sensitive skin about how hot she is, how good she’ll feel, how he can’t wait to bury himself deep inside of her.

"I can't fucking  _wait_ to be inside you."  He huffs, “Fuck, look at you...This body wants to get fucked _..._ and I’m gonna fuck you _so good_ , Baby, you know that?”

“Please!” The desperation in her voice rivals the need coursing through his bloodstream. He revels in the way her body shivers when he thrusts home in one smooth motion. He withdraws slowly, and couldn’t be more turned on by the way she clenches her cunt around him.

“Holy _fuck_ , Clarke.”

She gives him a breathy chuckle, “You keep saying that.”

He huffs, “I keep meaning it...  You're fucking incredible.”

“Tell me-” She’s cut off by her own guttural moan when he snaps his hips back into hers, only to slowly pull out. He can’t suppress his own rough growl when she tightens her pussy walls around him again.

He grinds out, “That – _fuck_ -” He sharply sheathes himself inside of her, “You do a lot of kegels, don’t you?”

She grins knowingly as she squeezes herself around his cock again, this time in quick spurts that have his head spinning.

“Jesus fuck what—” He’s almost ashamed by his inability to form a sentence now right now.

She shoots him a cocky smirk as she repeats the action, “Oh, you mean _that_?”

“Fuck…” He groans again, “It’s like your pussy is trying to fucking _keep_ me inside you.”

Her breath hitches at his words and he plunges back into her, punctuating his thoughts with the movement.

She answers (barely), “It gives us both even more – _fuck –_ friction.”

“You feel fucking incredible.” He wants to keep going slow, because this feels fucking amazing, but his body has other ideas, and if he keeps going like this he’s going to explode too quickly. He rises to his knees and briefly slips out of her while he lodges one knee behind her bent one and anchors his other foot by her hip. It takes some flexibility, but he sits back on one heel and lines himself back up before he buries himself to the hilt inside of her. Her gasp morphs into a lengthy moan when he grips her hips in his large hands and he thrusts into her, pulling her against him with each pump of his hips, as he sets a controlled, utterly satisfying tempo.

He starts to feel a burn in his glutes, which takes his mind a _little_ off the euphoria of being completely bare inside her hot, slick cunt. He leans back slightly to catch a glimpse of her pussy being impaled by his naked cock, which is an image almost too hot to handle right now. _Fuck_. His gaze travels to his hands, where he gets caught up in the contrast between her pinked paleness and the sun-warm color of his skin. His palms feel like they’re on fire as his fingers dig harder into the flesh of her ass. He smirks at the thought of leaving some kind of bruise there.

He hears a distinctly more lecherous moan escape her, so he glances up and sees her staring into a mirror on the wall (of which he was sadly unaware until now). He studies the dark expression on her face, and the most accurate word he can think of to describe it is _obscene._

The tone of her voice bobs with each thrust he makes into her, “That… is so fucking _hot_.” They catch each other’s gaze and everything seems to melt together from there. He speeds up the pace, driven by the loud, feverish noises made by Clarke, pumping into her recklessly until he’s lost all semblance of rhythm.

"Fuck, yeah you are."  

“Bellamy!” Clarke screams, before she goes completely rigid, and he thinks he’s never heard his own name shouted in such a filthy tone. And he’s pretty sure he’ll do fucking _anything_ to hear it again... As her body begins to spasm in ecstasy, she lets go a ragged cry and he loses control, releasing himself deep inside of her while his entire body shudders from the eruption.

When he collapses, he manages to lean to the side to avoid crushing her with his weight. She doesn’t move for a full minute while their chests heave with harsh and uneven breaths, their bodies in desperate search for oxygen. She finally turns her head to face him with a sated smile gracing her features.

Bellamy tugs her closer to him and she rests her chin on the hard planes of his chest. They’re both sticky with sweat, and he chuckles at her irked expression as she wipes stray strands of her wild hair from her damp forehead.

Clarke shoots him a glare that lacks any heat, which makes him laugh again.

“Are you laughing at how sweaty I am?”

He shakes his head with gentle smile as he tucks a stray curl behind her ear, “No. You’re… endearing like this.”

She raises an eyebrow, “Endearing? Was I not endearing before?”

He chuckles, “You’re hot. And a little intimidating.”

She pulls her head back with a disbelieving glance, “I’m pretty sure I was stumbling over words like a star-struck bimbo all night.”

“Not really. I mean, yeah, you blush more than anyone I’ve ever known. But no, you didn’t seem like you were stumbling over anything.”

She smiles, “Well that’s good to know.” After a few moments of just staring at each other, he feels her leg shift under the covers, “I think I lost feeling in my lower limbs.”

“Do I get a pat on the back for that?”

She barks out a laugh, “You get _something_. Maybe a standing ovation, you know, once I can actually stand again… ‘Cause that was really good.”

He huffs, “It was fucking incredible.”

She rolls her eyes, “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

The corner of his mouth tugs up in a lop-sided smile, “No. I don’t.”

Her smirk fades to a soft expression, “Oh.”

His thumb taps nervously on the creamy skin of her back as he searches her face, “Please, tell me you’re down for… more after this.”

She huffs, “Already? I’m ready to pass the fuck out.”

Bellamy smirks, “That’s not what I meant.”

Her smile is tender, “I know.”

He feels himself frown, “I mean, if you don’t want to, that’s fine too, because I don’t want to assume anything, so if this is a one-and-done thing, that’s cool, but tonight was fantas-”

His words are cut off by the press of her lips to his and he can’t help but smile into her kiss. She pulls away with a grin, “You’re rambling. If it’s not obvious, yes, I want to keep seeing you.”

He laughs, “Yeah, okay.” He pulls her back to him to reclaim her mouth for a long and drugging kiss, and he thinks he could easily get lost in this woman. When they finally break apart, it’s because she looks like she’s about to pass out from exhaustion.

She dutifully gets out of bed to brush her teeth. She comes out of the bathroom, surrounded by the minty aroma of toothpaste, holding a still-packaged toothbrush. She hands it to him and tells him sleepily, “Oral health is important.”

He smirks, “Agreed. And I guess this answers my question of whether you want me to stay the night or not.”

Clarke smiles, “Yeah, stay. I mean, if you want to.”

Bellamy nods, “Yeah, I’d like that.” He’s internally relieved because he’s really tired, and looking forward to some deliciously slow, lazy morning sex. When he comes back into the bedroom after brushing his teeth, Clarke is out cold. He gets back in bed as quietly as possible, wanting to avoid waking her up. But, when he gets under the covers, she slides close to him and snuggles into the warmth of his body.

He kisses the top of her head, “Good night.”

Her response is a slurred “mmm, ‘night.”

He falls asleep imagining the numerous ways he’ll take her tomorrow morning… Oh, the possibilities.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you guys are enjoying this, hit that KUDOS button!!! 
> 
> And, REVIEWS are pretty much the best thing ever. I love hearing what you guys think, and if you have requests for something you'd like to see in future chapters, comments are a great place to do so (*cough* hint). 
> 
> Last but not least, thank you guys for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _She brings the palm of her hand to his face. “You’ve got a lot of layers, don’t you?”_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> _The corner of his mouth quirks up, “Don’t we all?”_
> 
>  
> 
> _She shrugs, “Yeah. But you’ve got deeper ones.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _He frowns, “I don’t know about that.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Her thumbs brush his cheeks, trace the expanse of freckles across them, “I do. You’re much more than meets the eye, Bellamy Blake.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _Her heart speeds up at the sincerity of his voice, “So are you, Clarke Griffin.”_
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> Plus: SEX ;)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIRST:  
> THANK YOU guys so much for making this story such fun to write!!! I love reading through your comments - it really makes my day to get emails notifying me of new reviews and/or kudos. So please, keep them coming!!! I get excited every single time. I'm still going through and doing replies on the comments that are already there on Chapters 1 and 2, so if you haven't gotten a reply yet, it's coming! 
> 
> Also, my apologies for the delay in updating this. You can see the end-chapter notes for more explanation, but the bottom line is: Thank you for sticking with me!
> 
> Thank you [Amber ](bilexualclarke.tumblr.com)for beta-ing this for me! 
> 
> And, another shout out to [Mandy](bittyab18.tumblr.com)for the great prompt :)

Clarke is in the middle of a particularly erotic dream when she’s awoken by the sensation of gentle fingers as they sweep her hair away from her back.  She wants to gasp when she feels lips brush softly up her spine, but she schools her breaths to conceal her awareness, curious as to Bellamy’s plans for the morning…  She can’t suppress a small twitch when his warm breaths ruffle the hair at the nape of her neck.  His gentle tongue dances soft patterns on a tantalizing path to the sensitive spot behind her ear and she takes note of the potent (and welcomed) aroma of freshly-brushed teeth.  She revels in the way his voice rumbles through her when he laughs, soft and low, at the way she shivers when she finally can’t hide her consciousness.   

His breath is hot against her cheek and she can hear the smirk in his voice, “Oh good, you’re awake.”  

Clarke grins, her eyes still closed, as she feels him press gentle kisses to her temple while his fingers trail along her side in a slow, tortuous path to where she wants them most.  She can’t suppress a wanton groan at the thought of his hands… the veins that pop from under his tan skin and extend to his beautiful forearms…  And _oh god_ , his arms.  She thinks about the way his muscles flexed as she watched him brush his teeth last night.  Her mouth waters at the memory of his rippling back muscles when he bent over the sink to splash water on his face. 

Bellamy’s fingers deftly knead the flesh of her ass before making their way between her legs, drawing a gasp from both of them when he parts her sensitive folds and teases the edges of her entrance. 

His voice is colored with amusement and arousal, “Were you having naughty dreams, Clarke?” 

She hums and turns her face into the mattress in an attempt to conceal her blush, irrationally embarrassed by the accuracy of his question.  The bedding muffles the pleasured groan that escapes her when Bellamy dips a long finger into her opening. When he truly realizes how wet she already is, he lets go deep growl that provokes something primal and wholly debauched inside of her.  He adds a second finger and explores her in just the right places… It’s like he’s a pro at this.  She chuckles softly to herself when she remembers that he actually _is_ a pro at this... 

His voice is thick with desire, “Tell me what you want, Clarke.” 

She turns her head so she’s facing him again and blinks the blur of sleep from her eyes.  “I want you.” 

He gives her a wicked grin as his fingers continue to work all kinds of magic within her.  “I can tell… I need you to be a little more specific, though.” 

She squirms a little and smiles, “I want you to _fuck_ me.”   

Bellamy’s growl gives her goosebumps and the animalistic sound almost makes her laugh, but any thoughts of laughter are cut off when he bites down where her neck meets her shoulder.  A gasp evolves into a moan as he abrades her skin between his teeth while he drives his fingers into her with more vigor.  By instinct, she spreads her legs wider to give him more access, and he taps his thumb to her clit, pressing against it with maddening gentleness – just a taste of what he’ll soon give her.  She feels warm heat spread through her body when she feels his hard cock brush her thigh.  She wants to feel it, to put her hands on it, but their positioning makes that all but impossible.  She hears a frustrated whimper and it takes her a second to realize that it came from her.

“Tell me what you want, Clarke.” 

She wiggles her hips to move her thigh along his cock, and delights in the responding surge of his pelvis.  She can’t bring herself to be ashamed of the desperation in her voice when she tells him, “I want you inside of me, _now.”_

He teases, “I’m already inside of you.” 

She groans, annoyed that she has to speak full sentences right now, “Those are your fingers, I want _you_ inside of me.” 

“Be more specific.” 

She growls and twists her body so she can move her arm, then darts her hand down to wrap around his rock-hard cock.  “This, Bellamy.  I want your cock inside of me.”  She feels a deep, embarrassed blush spread across her face upon hearing her own vulgar words.

“ _Where_ do you want my cock? ”

She gives that a moment of legitimate thought.  Because there’s more than just one place she’d like him to fuck her.  But for now…

“In my pussy.   _Please_ …” 

Bellamy chuckles and halts the movement of his fingers before he pulls his hand completely away from her already-swelling cunt.  He sits back on his heels, then rolls her onto her back, and she thinks she might never tire of the stunned expression on his face when he ogles her breasts.  Her own hands come up to knead and pluck at the heavy globes of flesh and she basks in his vulgar stare.  She trails her eyes up and down his body, and her own gaze catches on his gorgeous cock as it juts out from his frame, hard and mouthwatering. 

Clarke releases a lecherous moan that seems to snap him out of his thoughts.  She sits up and reaches forward to take him in her hand, and doesn’t even try to stifle the wanton groan that escapes her while she wraps her fingers around his solid shaft. 

She can still hear the coarseness of sleep in her voice, “Fuck, your cock is gorgeous, Bellamy.”  She strokes him a few times and marvels at the way his foreskin retracts to reveal its glistening head, then tightens her fist to draw out more thick beads of pre-come.  Her tongue automatically darts out to wet her lips as she bends forward until she can kiss the tip.  She flicks her tongue out to gather some of the viscous fluid before she closes her lips around him.  She only takes him in a few inches, to give him a little bit of a tease while her fingers make their way to his thighs.  She gives them a squeeze before she pulls her head away. 

“Up – I wanna taste more of your cock, Bell.”  Without missing a beat he rises to his knees and she spreads her legs wide so he can kneel between them.  She’s already immensely grateful for the knee he plants in front of her pussy.  She grinds against him, enjoys the sensation of the coarse hair of his thigh on her needy cunt.

He chuckles, “You’re so _wet_.”  He looks pointedly down at his thigh, where her copious arousal has left a shiny trail on his leg.  She bites back her embarrassment and instead grinds against him again while she returns her attention to her task.  She licks along his veined shaft while she gently cups his balls in her hand, delighted by the way his breath hitches when she blinks up at him from below. 

Clarke pulls her mouth away and fixes her gaze on his throbbing cock, “Do you have any idea how much I’ve obsessed over this?” 

Bellamy smirks and looks back toward the corner where he tossed the ‘Rammer Bobby’ dildo last night, “I think I have an idea, yeah.” 

His chuckle dies in his throat when she closes her lips around him again.  She pinches herself to make sure she’s not still dreaming, because she’s got her favorite porn star’s magnificent cock between her lips.  Her self-inflicted pinches draw from her a licentious moan that vibrates through him.  She revels in the way his eyes flutter closed and his head drops back as she takes as much of him as possible.  His hands tangle themselves in her hair while she continues to show him just how ravenous she is for him.  She hollows her cheeks as she sucks him off, then tries to take him deeper and swallow the head.  It turns out she’s not quite ready for that challenge, since his it triggers a vigorous gag reflex.  His startled cry as her throat spasms powerfully around him does not go unnoticed...

He pulls her face away, “ _Fuck..._  I’m gonna come if you keep that up.” 

She shrugs as she wipes her mouth on the back of her hand, “Yeah, I’m not seeing the problem.”  She has to clear her throat a few times as she recovers from his exquisite invasion of her throat. 

Bellamy smirks as he pushes her back on the pillows, “Well…” Her hands find their way immediately to his cock again.  She wasn’t kidding – she is _obsessed_.  She really can’t find it in herself to be ashamed of her wanton behavior. 

She whines, “Bellamy, I _want_ it.” 

He wraps his large hands around her wrists and pulls them away, pins them next to her head.  “I know you do.  And I’m _going_ to give it to you.” 

She squirms against his powerful hold, just to test it out, and desire shoots through her when she finds it impossible to move.  Her eyes greedily take in his toned arms, she follows the network of veins that travel up them.  Her eyes slam shut when his lips attach to her neck again, right at that spot that causes all rational thought to evaporate, leaving room for only the most primal functions. 

His deep voice brings her back, “I’m _going_ to fuck you.” 

She nods frantically, “Yes, _that… please!”_

He squeezes his fists to direct her attention to her pinned wrists, then captures her eyes with his lustful gaze, “Leave them there, understand?” 

She nods with a lazy grin, “Got it.” 

Clarke is completely taken by Bellamy’s incredible mouth as he makes his way down her body, teases her breasts in just the right way to get her to rut against him in a desperate plea to deliver.  She arches her back into his lips as he explores her torso, giving her just enough attention to make her crazy with want. 

Then he _finally_ gets to her pussy, and _holy fuck_.  Seriously.  His abilities are like a spiritual fucking experience.  The slow approach he makes to her most intimate place makes her writhe beneath him.  She squeezes her thighs together and bucks her hips in an attempt to hurry him up, and his strong hold on her makes her desire for him nearly _savage_.  She can’t seem to look away from his hand as it wraps itself around her hip, his grip so hard she thinks it might leave a bruise.  _Good_.  

He looks up at her with a reverence that seriously fucks with the rhythm of her heart.  “Think you can hold still for me?” 

No.  She definitely can’t.  Even if she wanted to, she can’t.  But, she's unable to verbalize _anything_ at this point, so she just shakes her head slowly. 

Bellamy smiles gently, “Fair enough.  Just give it an honest effort, yeah?”

Clarke huffs a quiet laugh and drops her head back against the pillows for a moment until she hears his graveled voice again, “No, sweetheart.  I wanna see your face while I take you apart.”  She knows her jaw is slack right now, but that seems to be working for him.  She nods and grabs another pillow to set under her head.  His approving smile sends her heart into a state of frenzy.  He wraps his hands around her bent knees and separates them fully, pushing them apart until the outsides of her thighs fall flat against the mattress.  Her whole body shudders when she feels the evidence of her arousal _drip_ out of her (another thing she can’t quite bring herself to feel embarrassed by).  She’s never felt as deliciously vulnerable as she does when he feasts his eyes on her pussy. 

When he spreads her open with his fingers, she finds she’s unbelievably thrilled by the mere promise of penetration.  The way he licks his lips ignites insatiable hunger for him.  His tongue slowly, lightly traces her inner lips and she has to stifle a scream because she is _so close_ to just losing it.  When he _finally_ dives in, conscious thought evaporates and she surrenders to the bliss of his strong muscle as it writhes around inside of her.  She takes note of a subtle tingling on her delicate flesh and remembers he just brushed his teeth (so _that’s_ what it feels like when a minty-fresh tongue devours her pussy).  She grieves the absence of his tongue when he pulls it out, but she’s brought to actual tears when he plunges his fingers into her.  Meanwhile, he explores her folds, licking light then strong lines into the flesh around her clit, but purposely denying the bundle of nerves any attention. 

She whines in protest when he lifts his face away completely and his smirk is infuriating.  “Need something?” 

She huffs with a glare, “You think?!”

He chuckles, unfazed by her wrath, and she feels his hot breath against her pussy when he asks, “Like this?”  Relief floods her body when his tongue licks side-to-side patterns over her clit, but he stops just as she starts to lose herself in it. 

“Wha-?”  She can’t even finish the word before he cuts her off.

“Or this?” And he licks her strongly with the flat of his tongue, then flicks up and down with the strong tip.  She hisses when the stimulation is too powerful.

She manages to shake her head, “Softer…” He immediately adjusts the pressure and the effect is wonderful… Until the asshole stops again.

She whimpers, “Why the _fuck-_ “

He chuckles against her pussy, and his breath against her sensitive flesh is maddening, “How about-“ And her clit is suddenly engulfed by his hot mouth as he sucks on it with a pressure so perfect she nearly blacks out.

Her shocked cry is unrecognizable.  She sobs out unintelligible words… just syllables, really.  His tongue plays with her clit as it’s trapped in his mouth while he adds another finger, stretching her out in the most beautiful fucking way.  In almost no time at all, she feels ripples of pleasure building, a delicious warmth deep in her abdomen, ecstasy that demands release.  Then he growls, and the vibrations of his rough voice shoot through her core.  Her body seizes up in rapture, her mind blank except for the swells of orgasmic pleasure that overcome her.  Time slows as her chest heaves, her mind lost in erotic bliss.  He lets up just slightly while her body twitches, but just when she thinks he’s going to let go (because that was a _monster_ of an orgasm), he sucks _hard_.  The stimulation is too much and she tries to push his head away, but he holds her down with his free arm.  Pain gives way to unfathomable pleasure as he sucks and pulls the still-pulsating nub with an unrelenting, blissful force that sends her body back into ecstatic spasm while another orgasm roars through her.  The last thing she remembers before her world fades away is feeling of his fingers as they dig rhythmically into her thigh…

When awareness returns, she notices that the frantic rise and fall of her chest has calmed down, and Bellamy’s chin is propped up on her stomach while he looks up at her with startling affection.  She frowns at the way his chin indents her flesh. She loves her body, really.  But there are times where she feels inexplicably insecure about it.  Like right now.  When her pornstar crush’s chin is on her stomach, and its softness makes her think of a pillow.  He is surrounded every day by women with lithe bodies, flat abs and thighs that don’t meet in the middle… Those are all things she truly doesn’t _want_ on her own body, but she can’t help but feel a jolt of stupid insecurity when she thinks of the comparison.

Bellamy tilts his head, concerned, “Hey, what’s the matter?”

She shakes her head with a shrug, “I just…  Don’t worry about it.” 

He frowns, “No...  Why the frown?”  He has a pout on his face, “Not enough orgasms?” 

She barks out a laugh, surprised by his ability to lighten the mood without being a total asshole. “That is _definitely_ not an issue.” 

He smirks, “Then what is it?” 

She glances anywhere but his eyes as she tries to think of an answer, then finally settles on, “I’m not… built like your ‘co-workers,’ that’s all.” 

“What does that mean?”

She raises an eyebrow, because does she really need to explain this more?  “They’re so impossibly perfect.  Like, they have perfect skin, and perfect abs, and perfect thighs.  Their bodies are impossible.”  She huffs, “It’s stupid because that’s never bothered me before, but I’ve also never fucked someone who could _actually_ compare me to them.” 

The gentleness of his smile makes her heart skip a beat.  “First off, makeup and camera angles.  Not a single one of us is perfect.  Second, did you ever think that maybe I find _your_ body incredibly attractive?” 

She twists her mouth to the side and shrugs.   

He presses kisses to the skin over her curves, “Because I do.  This-” his thumbs rub circles on her abdomen, “-is stunning.”  Any protest dies in her throat when he swirls his tongue into her navel, then devours the rest of her on his way back to her lips.  Goosebumps erupt over her entire body as he breathes his admiration into her skin, and just like that, her insecurities are assuaged. 

When he finally takes her lips with his own, she moans at the taste of herself in his mouth…

The breathlessness in her voice is shameful, “You gonna fuck me now?”

“Patience is not your strong suit, is it?”

She laughs, “I have to be patient everywhere else in life… I guess I haven’t quite learned it in this context.” 

He smirks, “Oh, sweetheart… Soon.  I’m going to show you just how-” he licks behind her ear, “-incredible-” he swirls his tongue along the angle of her jaw, “-patience can be.” 

She slams her eyes shut as he wraps his hand around her calf and hooks it behind him, then braces his hand on her headboard and drives home in one powerful thrust.  Her shuddering gasp morphs into a noise that matches his strangled groan. 

She knows it’s irresponsible to be fucking him condom-free without some sort of proof that he’s actually STI-free, but this feels so. Damn. Good.  He’s taking just as big a risk as she is, and for some reason she trusts him.  She reminds herself to mention it later, but that’s the last thought she can spare for details when he pulls almost all the way out, then buries himself to the hilt again.  Her body zings with pleasure when he grinds his pubic bone into her clit.

Her own voice bobs with each of his thrusts, “Jesus, fuck, _ohmygod_ -” He pounds harder into her with her exclamations.  

“Clarke, you feel _so_ _fucking good_.” She’s a big fan of the way he punctuates his words with powerful snaps of his hips.

“You, too… God.”  He laughs and she knows what he’s about to say so she cuts him off, “I know, you usually go by Bellamy.” 

He laughs harder at that, “Fuck, should I be afraid that you know me that well already?”

She smiles, “Shut up and kiss me.” 

He slants his mouth over hers and takes her damn breath away as he kisses her, hot and dirty… Then she’s just along for the ride.  He murmurs filthy thoughts into her neck while he fucks her into oblivion.  He takes her free leg and presses it against her chest to open her wide up while he drives into her again and again.  When she’s nearly fallen apart, he switches it up, soothing her protests with promises about how he’s going to take care of her. 

“Patience is a virtue, Clarke…”  The indecent way the words drip off his tongue make her feel quite the opposite of _virtuous._  

He pulls out of her and rises to his knees, then rips the pillows out from under her head so her body is spread out flat in front of him.  Her hands wander again to touch him, and she smirks when he pins her wrists up by her head again.  This is definitely a thing for him, and it’s hot as fuck for her, too. 

His cock juts out from his broad frame and she’s pretty sure she’s about to lose her mind with want.  The smirk on his face says he knows her sordid thoughts all too well. 

“You want my cock again?”

She wills her voice not to tremble, “I do…”

He spreads her legs obscenely then widens his stance and lines himself up with her entrance.  He rubs her clit with the head of his cock and coats himself in her arousal while he rakes his eyes over her body, “Do you have any idea how fucking hot you are?  God, you are so _fuckable_ …” 

Clarke wiggles slightly, just to watch his gaze darken as he takes in her form.  She raises an eyebrow, “Are you going to do something about that?” 

He nods with a smirk, “Fuck, yes…”  He drives into her again and she nearly chokes with pleasure when he fills her completely.  “Seriously, look at you…”  He thrusts in and out a few times before he takes hold of her legs and presses her thighs wide, pins them against her sides with his large hands. 

She whimpers, starves for more, “You can look _while_ you fuck me, Bellamy.” 

He nods and traps her in his sinful gaze, “That I can,” and _finally_ fucks into her relentlessly while he leans his weight against her open thighs, stretching her as wide as possible.  “Fuck… Your tits are so hot when they bounce like this…”  Her fingers twitch with desire to explore her curves, touch herself.  He must see it because he tells her, “You wanna touch yourself, Clarke?” 

Clarke nods with a whimper and he demands, “Show me where.”

Her hand darts down to her pussy and Bellamy growls, “ _Fuck_ yes… play with your clit for me…”

Her pleasured cries are punctuated by sharp gasps as he drives harder into her. 

His voice is rough and makes her feel heady, “Use your other hand to play with your tits.”  She complies, pinching and pulling at her sensitive nipples while he grunts his approval with the most profane string of words she’s ever heard. 

They’re both close, she can feel it in the increasingly erratic rhythm of his thrusts, “Fuck, Clarke, come on my cock… come for me!”

She cries out wordlessly.  She needs something more, but she can’t quite figure out _what_ …

“Fuck, I’m so fucking deep… I’m gonna fill you up…”  She nods with a strained whimper, because _that_ – his deep, rumbling voice singing filthy praises – _that’s_ what she’s looking for.  “You wanna feel me come inside you again?”  He huffs, “Yeah, you do… I can see it… Don’t worry, I’m gonna come _so goddamn deep_ in you.”  And _there it is._  

Her body seizes up with so much pleasure it’s almost painful.  His carnal words surround her as pure bliss spasms through her helpless body and she finally feels him pulsate inside of her while her own walls clench rhythmically around him.  And _jesus fucking christ_ , the way his rough voice delivers such debased fantasies… she’s done for. 

After some much-needed recovery time, Bellamy lifts himself off to relieve her of his weight, and she mourns the absence of his cock as he slips out of her and flops down at her side. 

Clarke turns her head to face him and she’s met with a beaming smile that meets his warm eyes.  She grins, “Good morning.”

Bellamy laughs and kisses her forehead, “Good morning to you, too.”  The gesture is simple but profoundly intimate. 

She can’t fight the smile on her face, “I’m glad you stayed over.  That was… fuck… I don’t know _what_ that was, but it was good.” 

He smiles, “I’m glad I stayed, too.  And yeah, that was hot.” 

They lie in comfortable silence while his fingers absentmindedly trail patterns along her abdomen.  She gazes at the expanse of freckles on his face and wonders if they always give him such a youthful quality.  Despite the boyish freckles, he seems older than his thirty years in some way, she just can’t quite put her finger on why. 

“Tell me something about yourself.”  The prompt is cliché, but she has to start somewhere.

He smiles, “What do you want to know?”

She shrugs, “Anything.  There is, like, nothing about Bellamy Blake online.”

He pokes teasingly at her side, “I’d believe it if you said you checked everywhere.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “Shut up.”  She chuckles, “But yeah.  I’ve totally tried to search.  I have exactly one friend who knows about my ‘thing’ for you, and I’ve considered asking for his help before, just out of sheer curiosity.”   

“Curiosity about what?”

She nudges him with her foot, “Anything… Everything you hide from the rest of the world.”

He huffs, “I try and keep that kind of information _out_ of the hands of ‘the world.’”

Clarke smiles understandingly, “I figured, which is why I never actually _stalked_ you.”

Bellamy chuckles, “Well, I appreciate the whole respect of privacy thing.” 

She shrugs, “I figure if you’re okay with putting your entire body on display for the world, there’s probably a reason you keep other things close to you and private.” 

He nods, “Yeah.  People get access so much of me, and that’s something I don’t think I was necessarily prepared for – the invasion of privacy, constant objectification.” He scrubs his hand over his face, “That sounds stupid, considering that my job is basically the _epitome_ of objectification.  But I’ve made peace with that.”  He pauses a moment, “They get to have everything Rammer Bobby.  But information about _me,_ as insignificant as it is, gets to be mine.  It’s something they don’t get to have.” 

She smiles, “You deserve that.  And really, you do a pretty good job of keeping that information out of reach.”

He laughs, “I owe that to my friend’s boyfriend.  He puts up all kinds of safeguards for my personal information. He’s kind of a computer wizard.”

Clarke raises an eyebrow with a teasing grin, “Well, my friend is a computer _god_ who does computer _magic_ , and probably could have hacked through anything to get whatever your computer wizard hid.  So.  You know.  You’re lucky I wanted to respect your privacy.” 

Bellamy barks out a laugh, “Are we trying to one-up our computer geek friends against each other?” 

Clarke scoffs, “Right, like anyone could even come _close_ to Monty’s skills.”

He coughs, “Monty?”

She nods, “Yeah, Monty Green.  Nobody can beat Monty.” 

Bellamy closes his eyes, “jesusfuckingchrist…”

“What?”

He smiles, “This is a small fucking world.” 

“What?  You know Monty?!”

Bellamy laughs, “You could say that.” 

She frowns, “Wait, how do you know him?”

He rolls his eyes, “Monty is _my_ computer wizard.”

Her mouth drops open comically, “Are you telling me he was _holding out_ on me?!  He knows you and didn’t _tell_ me?!”

He chuckles and puts his hands up in a placating manner, “In his defense, his work for me is completely confidential.”

Clarke scoffs, “Yeah, but-” She thinks about it for a moment, and it’s true, Monty’s firm is built on confidentiality, so she can’t really be upset that Monty wouldn’t divulge personal information about her pornstar crush.  But now she feels like an idiot for crushing on Bellamy Blake in front of someone who actually _knew_ him.  “Fine.  But… I have said some pretty embarrassing things.  And he _knew you the whole time!_  He never thought to _stop me_ when I said-” She stops herself, “I just… said things.” 

He laughs, “Monty is good with secrets.” 

“Then you know Nathan?” 

Bellamy chuckles, “You mean Miller?” 

“Nathan Miller.” 

“Yeah, Miller and I go way back, actually.  He’s the friend who used to come up with absurd porn star names with me.” 

Clarke smirks, “Yeah, I think you hit the nail on the head with the phrase _small world._ ”  After a moment, “So you said you have a sister?”

Bellamy frowns, like he’s not sure where she got this privileged information.  She clarifies, “You told me your sister handles social situations for you when we were at the grocery store, after the melon conversation.”

He chuckles, “Right.  Yeah, Octavia.  I got custody of her when our mom died, which was about nine years ago.”

“And she knows what you do?”

Bellamy nods, “Of course she does.  Granted, she didn’t find out about it until she was about 18.”

“Did you tell her? Or did she figure it out?”

“She eventually caught on to the fact that when I left the house to go “hang with friends” I wasn’t always going where I claimed.  Eventually I just told her, and she took it pretty well, considering it’s more than she ever wanted to know about her brother.”

Clarke laughs, “Yeah, I imagine that could be awkward.”

Bellamy chuckles, “We compartmentalize.  She just ignores the ‘sex’ part of my job.  She and her fiancé are actually friends with a few of my coworkers.” 

She smiles, “You said she moved out here with you nine years ago?  How old was she?”  She stops herself before she can rattle off a never-ending string of questions that would best be asked one at a time. 

“Well, I was 22 and Octavia was 16, almost 17.  I was already doing porn, but like, low-budget stuff.  I wasn’t a commodity at that point.”  He pauses to think a moment, “When O came to live with me, I had the option to quit porn, but it would have required me to take on several jobs to keep us financially afloat.  Or I could keep booking scenes.  I took the option that gave me more time with Octavia.” 

“Social services didn’t throw a fit about it?”   

Bellamy shrugs, “Not really.  I mean, one of the social workers had a problem with pornography on a moral level, and she never passed on the opportunity to remind me… But, they couldn’t find any indications that it would put Octavia’s physical or emotional safety in peril.  I never brought work home with me, so to speak.”  Clarke nods, imagines what it might be like to have to care for a teenager while attempting to carry on with life as normal for a twenty-something adult film star.  “Honestly, the only reason they knew what I did was because I told them up front.  But I figured it was better to get in front of that kind of information, rather have to try and explain myself after it was found.”

Clarke nods, “That makes sense.”

“O and I lived together until about three years ago, when she moved in with her boyfriend, who is now her fiancé.”

“So you guys are still close?”

He nods with a fond smile, “Yeah, definitely.  I’ve always looked out for her.  It’s been hard to just let go and let her be her own person.”  He huffs, “She demands freedom, though.” 

Clarke laughs, “I’m sure your big brother instincts are totally on board with that.” 

He gives her a sidelong glance then returns her teasing grin, “Yeah, okay.  It probably doesn’t shock you to know that I’ve been a bit… overprotective in the past.”

She smirks, “No, that’s not surprising.”  Her smile softens, “But really, I imagine it would be difficult for someone who raised his sister to suddenly just let her go find herself.  You were responsible for her since she was 16?  It makes sense that you’re going to be protective.” 

He nods, “16 is just when legal custody happened.  I basically raised her from childhood.  Our mom worked a lot, so Octavia was my responsibility.”

Clarke nods, at a loss for words for a moment.  “Why would you think that a child was your responsibility when _you_ were only a child?” 

He shrugs, “That’s just how it was, since she was born.   My sister, my responsibility.”

Clarke gives him a soft smile, “That’s a lot to put onto a kid, but it seems like you came out ahead of it all.”

He nods, “Yeah, we did.”  He asks after a moment, “What about you? Do you have any siblings?” 

Clarke ducks her head, “No biological siblings.  My best friend growing up was like my brother, though.  He lives in New York.  My mom – she’s a doctor back east.  My dad was an engineer for NASA.”

Bellamy nods gently, “Was?”

Clarke shrugs, “Yeah.  He died when I was 17.” 

“That... sucks.  I’m sorry.”  The sympathy on his face is genuine.  It’s the look of someone who’s been there.  And that’s about the best way she can sum it up: _it sucks._  

She smiles, “It was ten years ago.  It’s not really something I’ll ever really ‘get over’ but I’ve found peace over the years.” 

He pauses a moment and searches her eyes. “That’s good.  Peace is… important.”  To lighten the subject matter slightly, he asks, “So are you originally from back East?”

“Yeah.  I needed a change of scenery after undergrad, so I came to medical school at Stanford, and then moved here for my residency.  I wanted to get out of the shadow of Dr. Abby Griffin and have the chance to kind of forge my own path.” 

“Abby… That’s your mom, I take it?”

Clarke nods, “Yeah.”

“So you’re… Griffin?”

Clarke chuckles when it dawns on her that she’s having a very intimate conversation with someone who doesn’t even know her last name. “Yeah.  Dr. Clarke Griffin.” 

He narrows his eyes playfully, “What are you laughing at?”

She shakes her head, “Oh, just the fact that we’re lying her having this deep conversation, after some really incredible sex, and you didn’t even know my whole name.” 

He laughs softly, “I couldn’t figure out a good time or way to ask… I was a little distracted by all _this_.”  Goosebumps erupt all along her body as his hand dances lightly down her side, and he smirks at her full-body shiver.   

Clarke chuckles, “Fair enough.  I didn’t even think about it.”  After a few more moments of companionable silence, she asks, “So how many films do you have left?”

“Um… nine or ten scenes.  I’m scheduled to shoot them over the next three weeks.”  He frowns, uncomfortable, and sneaks a glance at Clarke. 

She nudges him with a small smile, “Hey, relax.  I know what your job is.  I’m not going to go get all pouty because you have to go fuck other people at work.” 

He relaxes a little, “Yeah.  Okay.  That’s good to hear.” 

Clarke rolls on her side to face him and rests her head on her arm, and takes a moment to observe this man with a whole new sense of appreciation.  She didn’t know about his life growing up, that he had so much on his plate.  But it makes sense, now: The undercurrent of protectiveness to which he seems so naturally inclined.  Bellamy turns his body to face her, mirroring her position. 

She brings the palm of her hand to his face.  “You’ve got a lot of layers, don’t you?”

The corner of his mouth quirks up, “Don’t we all?”

She shrugs, “Yeah.  But you’ve got deeper ones.” 

He frowns, “I don’t know about that.” 

Her thumbs brush his cheeks, trace the expanse of freckles across them, “I do.  You’re much more than meets the eye, Bellamy Blake.” 

Her heart speeds up at the sincerity of his voice, “So are you, Clarke Griffin.” 

Bellamy leans forward and gently presses his lips to hers, and she’s overwhelmed by the sincerity behind the simple kiss.  He pulls back just a bit, brings his thumb to her mouth and lightly traces her lips.  Her eyes flutter closed as his lips capture hers again, first the top one, then the bottom.  When he flicks his tongue against the seam, she parts them to grant him entrance.  A scorching urgency flows through her veins.  He swallows her needy moans as he deepens the kiss.  He turns them so she’s on her back, trapped in the best way underneath his weight.  She feels him harden and she delights in his growl when she bucks instinctively against him. 

Her lungs gasp desperately for air when his mouth explores the sensitive flesh of her neck.  She almost doesn’t recognize the mewling noise that escapes her as he dips his tongue in the hollow of her throat, rakes his teeth against her collarbone.  He takes a moment and breathes heavily against her skin before he rolls to her side,

With a kiss to her jaw he tells her, “Turn on your side, face the other way.” 

Clarke complies immediately, tremendously excited about whatever he has planned.  Bellamy encircles her with his arms and pulls her back flush against his chest.  His hands deftly explore her curves while he whispers into her skin how he can’t get enough of her, how he loves the sound of her voice when he’s fucking her, how he _needs_ to take her apart again…

Her fingers find his arm and her nails sink into his skin like claws.  She begs, desperate for more, _“Please…”_

His chuckle is both infuriating and soothing, “I got you… Remember what I said about patience?” 

Clarke nods with a whimper.  Is he really going to give her some sort of lecture right now? 

She feels a warmth bloom inside of her that radiates throughout her body as Bellamy’s coarse voice murmurs, “Trust me… When I make you wait for it, draw it out… that’s when you lose yourself to your senses.  You get to just _feel_ everything I do to you.”  She shudders at the way his voice penetrates her skin, “Just let go for me…”  Okay, she sees what he means now, but that’s the last coherent thought in her head as she’s consumed with desire.  His hands knead her breasts before he rolls her nipples lightly between his thumb and forefingers.  She keens and he increases the pressure, harder and harder while she nods and breathes choruses of ‘ _ohgodyes’_ and ‘ _please, more!’_   

Bellamy’s voice sounds almost amused, “You like a little pain with your pleasure?”  Clarke’s breath hitches at his assertion and she bites back the instinctive embarrassment she feels for wanting something so… odd.  Then his movements suddenly stop.  She nearly sobs in grief at the loss of stimulation. 

“Answer me,” he demands with an admonishing pinch to her thigh.  She’s not going to overthink the undeniable surge of arousal that just shot through her in response…

She bites her lip to stifle a moan and nods with a gasp, “Yes!”  She blinks, surprised by her outburst, “Yeah… holy shit.”  Aside from the rhythmic expansion of his chest as he laughs softly, he isn't moving, but she really, really wants him to pick up where he left off.  She wiggles her ass against his erect cock and grins at the way his hips automatically drive into hers.  Her pleas are greedy, “ _Please_ … more.” 

Bellamy’s soft chuckle surrounds her as he lifts her leg up and behind to wrap it around his thighs, opening her wide.  She sees their reflection in the mirror on the closet door and her body is flooded with desire when she sees the obscene way she’s displayed for him.  Her breath hitches when she meets Bellamy’s dark gaze in the mirror, and she can’t suppress her shiver when she sees his focus shift to her lewdly exposed body.  She can see every bit of her cunt as he lines himself up with her entrance, feels his body twitch behind her when the tip of his cock bumps teasingly against her clit.  She’s wet and ready, and he sheathes himself completely inside of her in one glorious thrust.  The sound of his unrestrained moan as she clenches her pussy around him is like music to her hungry ears.  

Bellamy’s hands work her over with a renewed purpose.  He alternates harsh pinches with soft caresses all along her body and each touch builds a decadent pressure deep in her core.  She’s practically screaming for release.  He can’t thrust into her this way, but the angle is absolutely perfect for his cock to hit that magical spot deep inside of her with each grinding movement.

Clarke tightens her walls around his cock, which gives them both considerable friction and draws a filthy growl out of Bellamy.  Despite the fact that there is nothing actually _touching_ her swollen clit, each movement inside of her, each touch to her body feels like it has a direct line to her throbbing bundle of nerves.  His lips ghost over her ears and down her neck before he bites down on her shoulder while he rocks within her, and she reaches up to tangle her fingers in his inky locks.  With a forearm around her front, he crushes her into him, their bodies already sweat-slicked, boiling over with lust.  With her free hand, she sinks her fingernails into his arm, revels in his responding growl and brutal grip on her trembling body. 

She takes inordinate pride in his shaking voice, “Are you close, Clarke?” 

She nods as he laves his bite mark with his tongue, “So close… So fucking close.” 

His breath is harsh in her ear, his voice dirty and low, “I can feel it in your cunt…” Her walls involuntarily twitch around him and his surprised growl brings her inexplicable joy.  “ _Fuck_ , that feels incredible.”  She does it again, this time with purpose and his fingers dig into her with bruising force.  His brutal grip propels her over the edge without warning.  The pressure in her core releases like an explosion that shatters her from the inside.  She hears the wrecked, drawn-out cry that escapes her, but it’s practically an out-of-body experience.  His thrusts become erratic, his growls unrestrained, and she feels the moment he releases himself into her depths, hot and thick inside of her.  Everything cuts to white noise while her body is wracked with wave after wave of indulgent bliss…

Clarke’s chest still heaves, her body still trembles softly as she comes back to reality.  Bellamy is still fully sheathed within her, recovering from his own orgasm while his fingers trail absentmindedly along her sweat-soaked body.  His panting breaths ruffle the hair that isn’t sticking to her skin.  Everything about him surrounds her in the best way.  She noticed it last night – he has a very specific, captivating scent.  It’s not like the overwhelming odor of cologne or body spray that guys tend to use in nauseating quantities.  No, Bellamy smells like a _man_ – earthy, with an alluring musk, and a hint of well-worn leather from his jacket.  Right now, there’s an added salty aroma from their sweat but she’s okay with that.  _Fuck,_ she’s okay with that. 

Despite her satisfaction with way their sweat-slicked bodies fit together, she knows it’s going to start feeling uncomfortable soon.

She squeezes her fingers on his arm, “Join me for a shower?”

He laughs, “Fuck, yes.” 

* * *

[Ten days later]

Clarke is in the kitchen retrieving drinks while Bellamy navigates her laptop to look for something to watch.  She texted him this afternoon:

Clarke Griffin:  
**_Netflix and chill?_**

His response came a few minutes later.

Bellamy Blake:   
**_Your place or mine?_**

Just as she was typing a reply, her phone chimed again.

Bellamy Blake:  
**_Wait, what does chill mean?_**

She barked out a laugh at his ignorance.

Clarke Griffin:  
_**I forgot, you’re old**_  
_**(before you deny it, remember you’re almost a retiree)**_  
_**You’ll find out when you get here**_

Bellamy Blake: **_  
So your place?_**

Clarke Griffin:  
**_Yeah, 7?_**

Bellamy Blake:  
**_7 works, see you then_**

Clarke finally locates the bottle opener so she can pop the tops of their beers.  She walks back into the living room, chilled bottles in hand, and Bellamy looks up at her with a wicked grin.  She gives him a sidelong glance, unsure of what he’s up to, then looks at her laptop screen. Where a folder of Rammer Bobby porn clips is open.

Bellamy smirks, “So, what could this possibly be?” His voice teases, “I mean, it’s labeled _‘Want to Try…’_ ”

Clarke fights the furious blush rising up her neck and straightens her spine, biting back the overwhelming embarrassment that threatens to consume her.  She remembers who she’s dealing with here.  No need to feel embarrassed. 

She clears her throat, “You’re a smart guy, I think you can use contextual clues to answer your own question.” 

He chuckles, “So fuck Netflix?”

She crosses the room until she’s standing in front of him.  She sets the bottles on the coffee table, then carefully takes the laptop off his lap before she slides onto his lap to straddle him. 

He pulls her down to meet him in a hot, dirty kiss.

“Yeah, fuck Netflix.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been saying this at the end of every chapter, but it remains true: life has been chaotic and busy lately. Also, I've become much more of a perfectionist about what I post, spending more time editing and proofing, etc. before sending it out to beta. As a result, updates are more spaced out, but I would rather put out something of high quality that meets my standards, even if it takes a little longer... I truly appreciate your patience! 
> 
> *****
> 
> Who else is not ready for the S3 premiere? I'm looking forward to and dreading it in equal measure, but I'm thrilled Bellamy will be getting more attention this season. Not looking forward to whatever is going on with the Blake siblings, though... 
> 
> *****
> 
> As always, if you're enjoying this, _please_ hit that KUDOS button! (even if you think you already did, try it again for kicks - maybe you haven't ;)). And, of course, COMMENTS are like fuel! So please, keep those coming! Ideas? Thoughts? Leave a comment and tell me! 
> 
> Finally: Thank you so much for reading!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know I love it when you talk dirty.” 
> 
> She sighs with a sultry grin, “You know I love it when you get me too worked up to talk at all…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I’ve had an overwhelming number of requests to bring back Bellamy’s dirty talk in comments and tumblr (and btw, holy shit, some of you guys get quite… depraved and specific in my ask box. I love it, keep it coming). So, channeling the earlier and more _*ahem*_ explicit chapters of this and my other fics, I hope I’ve delivered.  
>  A big thank you to [Amber](http://bilexualclarke.tumblr.com) for her beta work this chapter!  
> Also, thank you [Maggie](http://bellohmyblake.tumblr.com) for your daily encouragement with this chapter.

 

Bellamy pulls his phone out of his pocket and types a quick message to his sister. 

To: Octavia Blake  
From: Bellamy Blake

 **_O, set an extra place at dinner on Friday.  
_** **_I’m bringing someone._ **

Within seconds, Bellamy’s phone rings and he winces when he sees his sister’s face on the screen.  He considers letting it go to voicemail, but he knows she’ll just keep calling until he picks up.  He swipes his finger across the screen and steels himself for the onslaught of questions.

“Hi, O.”

“That is NOT the kind of thing you tell me through a fucking TEXT MESSAGE, Bellamy!”  Octavia’s voice booms through the speaker.  Despite her tiny frame, her vocal tone is not what one would call _delicate_ on any day, and when she’s fired-up, it’s downright thunderous. 

“What’s the big deal, O?”  Stupid question.  He knows exactly what it is. 

“What’s the big deal?!  Maybe the fact that you’ve _never_ brought someone to family dinner, and suddenly you text me to set an extra place at the table?”    

He huffs a laugh, “Relax, will you?” 

“No!  Why is this the first I’m hearing of her?  How long have you been seeing her?  How did you meet her?  What’s she like?  Fuck, what’s her _name_?”

“Calm down, O.  One thing at a time.  Her name is Clarke, and I met her when I was grocery shopping.” 

“So she’s not from work?  What does she do?”

“She’s a doctor, actually.  We’ve been seeing each other for a while now.  I want her to come to dinner because she’s coming to the graduation ceremony next weekend, and I thought it would be good for you guys to meet face-to-face before that.” 

“Yeah, of course.”  Her voice is a little calmer, “That’s great, Bell.  I’m really happy for you.”  He hears the _‘but’_ coming, so he waits.  “But, does she know you’ve… you know, worked in porn?” 

“I appreciate your concern, O, but that’s not a problem.”  He laughs at the memory of meeting Clarke Griffin, “She actually recognized me before I even introduced myself to her.”  Octavia is going to have a field day when she finds out Clarke is, in fact, the “blonde who wouldn’t get in line” from the AVN expo years ago.

“She _recognized_ you?  What if she’s one of the people who-”

“No, O.  She’s not on Monty’s list.” 

She sighs, “Look, I’m sorry for the third degree, but I just worry about you, Bell.  Okay?” 

Bellamy laughs gently, “I know.  Just, please be nice.  You’re the one always pushing for me to settle down, so don’t scare her away.”

She scoffs on the other end of the line, “I’ll behave.” 

“I’ll see you Friday.”

“Okay.  Oh, hey-” she interrupts,

“Yeah, O?”

“Is there anything she doesn’t like, food-wise?”

Bellamy huffs, “She’s one of the least picky eaters I’ve ever met, so I’m pretty sure you can make anything and she’ll be happy to have it.” 

“Got it.  See you Friday, big brother.” 

“Bye, O.” 

Bellamy has never brought anyone home to meet Octavia.  He had girlfriends before Clarke, but they were never serious, and they were always fellow workers within the industry.  Octavia knew most of them, and in some cases, was even friends with some of them before he was. 

Now there’s Clarke.  She has been a steady figure in his life for six months now and he thinks it’s probably past time for her to meet his family.  They haven’t delayed it on purpose, it’s just that things have been busy.  She has been amazing and he’s honestly still a little bit stunned when he thinks about it. 

She was beyond gracious last week when his former agency called him up and informed him that he was contractually obligated to complete one more film.  He thought he was finished months ago, and he fondly closed that chapter of his life.  He won’t lie, he’s disappointed to have to revisit it.  It’s scheduled to be filmed the week before his graduation ceremony.  For Bellamy, getting his doctorate is a big fucking deal, and the last thing he wants to deal with is finishing a job beforehand.  But, as Clarke continues to remind him, a job is less stressful than responding to a breach-of-contract lawsuit. 

 

* * *

 

 

Bellamy knocks on Clarke’s apartment door and hears her call from the other side, “It’s open, come in!” 

He finds Clarke in the kitchen, glaring at a burner on the stove as she adjusts the heat level.  Considering she is the least domestic person he’s ever met, he’s touched that she’s cooking for him.  Her face lights up when he walks in, grocery bags in hand.  He sets them on the counter and turns around to face her as she wraps her arms around him. 

“I missed you,” She tells him.  He tightens his arms around her, and he isn’t sure if he’ll ever have enough of her smile.  “It feels like it’s been forever since I saw you.” 

He chuckles, “You’re the busy one, here.” 

“I know, and I’m sorry… It sucks.”  Clarke’s work schedule has been demanding as of late, which, that’s not a new development.  Yeah, he misses her, and pretty much always craves more of her.  But, he doesn’t hold it against her.  He knew what he was getting into, and she’s worth it. 

He presses a kiss to her hair, “You don’t need to be sorry, Clarke.  It’s your job.  You’re saving lives and shit.  I get that.” 

She nods, “Thank you...  It won’t be like this forever.  I’m finished with my residency next month and after that, my schedule will be a lot less… awful.”

Bellamy smiles, “I know.”   His fingers catch on stray curl as he cups her face with his hand and lowers his lips to hers.  The taste of her lip balm is soothing, her softness inviting, and he knows he could easily get lost in this woman.  They’re interrupted by a hissing sound coming from the stove as something boils over and hits the flames below the pot.

“Shit!”  She darts over to the stove and uses tongs to pull a piece of pasta from the pot to check its softness. Satisfied with its doneness, she points over at the cabinet next to him, “Bellamy, can you grab the strainer and put it over the sink, please?”  Just as he sets the strainer down, she comes over with the pot and pours the contents into it.  He smiles at her annoyed frown as she blows away the steam from the sink. 

She looks up at him, “What?”

He shrugs, “You’re glaring at that pasta like it’s done you some personal injustice.” 

She huffs and nudges his leg with her toe, “Well, it _did_ interrupt me when I was kissing you.  I would say that counts as ‘injustice’ in my book.” 

Bellamy smiles, unable to take his eyes off of her, “Yeah.  What an asshole.” 

She laughs, “Alright, it’s time to eat.  While I serve this, can you get the salad out?” 

He nods, “Sure.”

“Thanks.”  As he pulls the salad plates out of the cabinet, she reminds him, “Oh, and grab the dressing in the fridge.” 

“I spoke with Octavia today.” 

Clarke smiles, “That’s good.”  She pauses, “I mean, that’s good, right?” 

Bellamy nods, “Yeah, it’s good.”  He clears his throat, “I told her you’re coming for dinner on Friday, that is, if you still want to come.” 

“Yeah, I’d like to come.”  She takes a sizeable sip of her wine, “So, you finally told her you’re seeing someone?”  

He winces at the reminder that neither of them have met each other’s friends or families.  Even Monty and Miller aren’t yet aware that Clarke and Bellamy know each other.  He met Raven by accident when she walked in on them in Clarke’s living room, three fingers deep with his head between her thighs.  All things considered, Raven handled it with more finesse than he did… He never knew how awkward it would be to be introduced to Clarke’s best friend when said friend was fully aware that he could still taste _Clarke_ on his tongue.  Considering how long they’ve been at this, it’s a miracle they’ve been able to keep this a secret at all. 

“When you meet Octavia, you’ll see why I waited so long.”  He searches her eyes, “You know that the delay has had nothing to do with _you_ , right?”  He pauses, “I mean, yeah it concerns you, but only because you… exist.”  The thing is, Octavia is protective, sometimes abrasive, and downright terrifying to some people.  He doesn’t doubt Clarke can handle whatever Octavia might throw at her, but he knows his sister is going to put her through an inquisition, and there’s a good chance it will be unpleasant. 

Clarke dabs at the corners of her mouth with a napkin, “I couldn’t exactly be upset with you for not telling your sister about this-” she gestures between them, “-when I’ve been avoiding the same thing with my mom.” 

He laughs, not wanting to reveal exactly how anxious he is about that fact.  On some level, he has been waiting for the ball to drop since this whole thing started.  He knows what Clarke means to him, and he’s pretty sure that he’s important to her, too.  Still, part of him is dreading the day that she realizes she’s too good for him and leaves.  He knows that regardless of Octavia’s initial reaction, she’ll warm up to Clarke and bring her into the fold.  He is significantly less sure of that happening with Clarke’s mom.  Abby comes from old money, and he’s always harbored some resentment toward wealthy people, largely because he grew up in poverty.  Yeah, he’s aware that Clarke herself comes from money, but that’s… different.  He thinks.  Honestly, money is a topic they both seem happy to avoid. 

He reaches for her hand and brushes his thumb over her knuckles, “Hey, we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, right?” 

Clarke gives him a smile that makes his chest squeeze, “Yeah.” 

He is so far gone for this woman, it’s laughable.  Over the last six months, Clarke has become a bigger and bigger part of his world.  He’s not quite sure when it happened, but somewhere amidst the impromptu hookups in the on-call room and long nights of languidly exploring each other’s bodies, she settled easily into his life.  Without either of them realizing it, she filled a void he didn’t even know was there.  Understandably, he’s resistant to doing anything that might fuck things up between them. 

Granted, he hasn’t actually _talked_ to her about this, and it’s a conversation they probably need to have.  Bellamy has just been trying to avoid unpleasant shit in general while they’ve been figuring out exactly _what_ they are.  They’ve been in this Bellamy-Clarke bubble, and it’s been nice.  Really nice.  He doesn’t want to disturb this easy, albeit undefined balance they’ve found. 

* * *

 

They clean up the kitchen after dinner, working around each other with an easiness that feels like they’ve been doing this for years. 

Bellamy reaches for her hip and gives her a squeeze, “That was really good.” 

She rolls her eyes, “It’s spaghetti.  It’s basically impossible to fuck that up.” 

He laughs, “Doesn’t change the fact that it was good.  So thank you.” 

She smiles and lets him pull her against his body, “You’re welcome.” 

“Are you sure you don’t have a problem with this job?”  Bellamy asks, for probably the hundredth time since he found out about it. 

Clarke puts a soothing hand on his chest, right over his heart.  He wonders if she notices how wildly it beats for her.  She meets his eyes with a gentle smile, “Bellamy, I’m sure.  It’s just a job.  The same job you had six months ago.  We did fine then, and we’ll do fine now.”  

He sighs and pulls her closer, kisses the top of her head.  “It doesn’t feel the same.” 

She leans into him, “How come?” 

Bellamy shrugs, “It’s different.  We’re different than we were before.”  Back then, this-” he gestures between them, “-was still… new.  Now, it’s-” He’s not sure how to describe exactly how much she means to him.  Scratch that.  There are about a thousand ways he could tell her what he’s feeling, but the thought of verbalizing that terrifies him.  “Things _have_ changed, right? I… I care about you”

She smiles, “I care about you, too.  And we have a foundation.  I trust you, and _you_ know that I trust you.  And I think _that’s_ why this job isn’t going to be a problem.  Okay?”

He nods gently and presses a kiss to her temple, “I believe you.” 

She squeezes their intertwined fingers before she steps away to finish putting the leftovers in the fridge.  While he watches her, he thinks about what she said.  And maybe she’s right.  They’ve got _something_ , even if they haven’t defined it.  And whatever it is, Clarke believes it will get them through this just fine. 

Her husky voice interrupts his thoughts, “You’re thinking too much.” 

He smirks, “Is that right?” 

She nods and his pulse speeds up as he takes in the view of her.  He feels a charge in the air around them as Clarke hands him his wine glass.  Their gazes don’t stray from each other as she swallows the last of her drink and he finishes his own, then takes both glasses and sets them on the counter.

Then they don’t hold back.  Clarke’s entire body collides with his as he frames her face in his hands and kisses her, insistent and fierce, demanding reciprocity. She returns it with bruising intensity and her touch sets his body aflame. 

Her hands wander greedily over his body and she palms his cock through his pants.  He wraps his hand around her wrist and stops her with a gentle shake of his head.  

“I have to film tomorrow.  Remember, I can’t-”

It just so happens that Clarke’s first night free in six days happens to coincide with the night before his shoot.  That makes him all the more irritated about this film, because the night before any scene, he makes it a practice not to come.  He works himself up to near-completion without actually blowing his load.  The point is to save everything for the next day’s scene.  She nods in understanding but can’t conceal the brief flicker of disappointment in her expression.  She slides her hand back up his chest, then cradles his face as she presses a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“I’m Sorry, I forgot about that part.”

She begins to step away, but he loops an arm around her and pulls her back against his chest.  He grins at her surprised squeak as she falls into his body. 

“Just because I can’t come doesn’t mean you won’t.” 

She smiles, “Is that right?”

He whispers low in her ear, “Yeah, that’s right.”  He delights in the shudder of her body, “I’ll take care of you… Real good care of you.” 

She nods, “ _Please_ …” 

He turns her around and grins as he walks her backwards until she reaches the wall, her back hitting the surface with a thump.  He watches her eyes as they trace the contours of his face while he softly grazes her cheek with the pad of his thumb.  He can feel the shudder of breath against his thumb when he lightly touches it to her lips and he can’t hold back any more.  His mouth descends on hers and he feels her rousing moan in his veins as he presses his thumb to her chin.  He licks into her deeply, intoxicated by the taste of her tongue against his. 

With a growl, she wraps her fists into the hem of his shirt and pulls him tighter against her body while her bare foot trails teasingly along his calf.  The muscles of his back quake under her fingers as they slip beneath his shirt and dance lightly across his skin. 

“How long has it been since you’ve come?”  He asks against her lips. 

She frowns, confused, “Wha-”

Bellamy presses soft, teasing kisses along her cheeks, “Was it last time I was here? Or did you get yourself off since then?”  

She closes her eyes and smiles in understanding, “Mmm, remember when you called the other morning?”

“Yeah, I remember.”  He smirks, “I don’t recall any phone sex, though.”  He feels the sharpness of her teeth through his shirt as she rakes them against his collarbone. 

“You know your voice just _does it_ for me.”  He tamps down a surge of arrogance at that statement.  The softness of her skin is entrancing when he drags his lips, slowly and teasingly, along the line of her jaw. 

“Fuck… That’s what, three days?”  His nose buried in her neck, he inhales deeply, breathes in the light scent of her shampoo.

Clarke nods once, worrying her lower lip between her teeth.  His hips jolt forward at the simple gesture and _fuck_ , tonight’s going to be a challenge.  He’s not sure he’s going to make it through without fucking her. 

He murmurs against her neck, “I’d say you at least need three orgasms to make up for it.”  Her body shivers against his when he nips at her ear.  She drops her head back against the wall again and he cradles her face in his palm. 

“At least three,” she agrees with a shaky breath.  Her fingernails elicit from him a growl as she scrapes them along his abdomen, tracing the peaks and valleys of his defined muscles. 

He looks her in the eye while his thumb taps against her hip, “Should I make you come three times in a row?”  He watches the slight tremble of her body, loves the way she grinds against his knee the moment he thrusts it between her thighs, “Or maybe I should give you breaks, make you crazy for each one.”  All the while, his hand has made its way underneath her skirt.  He groans at the wetness he finds on her panties before he thumbs them to the side.  He parts her folds with his fingers, gently, slowly, just to get an idea of how wet she is, and _fuck…_

“You’re fucking _dripping_...”  He chuckles, and her hips jut forward.  The action causes his fingers to dip into her center, just slightly, and he growls at the sound of her displaced arousal.  “You hear that, baby?”

Clarke nods, “I know.”  She’s breathless and he can hear the longing in her voice, “I’ve been thinking about this all fucking day.” 

“Good.”  Bellamy fucking _lives_ for the moments when her inhibitions evaporate, when she exists solely in this world of pleasure that _he_ gives her.  They’ve been at this, whatever it is, for months, and he’s still as captivated now as he was that first night.  He grins as he hooks his fingers into the crotch of her underwear and tugs while she brings her own hands to her hips and pushes them down with her skirt.  She steps out of them and lets Bellamy guide her to stand in front of the couch.

Before he can press her into the seat, she tugs at the hem of his shirt.  “Get this off, Bell. I wanna see you.” 

He complies with her request with a soft laugh.  Before he’s even finished taking the shirt off, she lays wet kisses along the front of his body, from his sternum down his midline. 

His skin tightens as goosebumps erupt all over his torso when she murmurs against his chest, “Holy shit, your skin is so smooth.” 

“Yeah, it’s for the shoot tomorrow.” 

She gives him a sultry grin as she teases the waistband of his pants, “So, you’re smooth… _everywhere_ right now?” 

Bellamy laughs, “Uh, yeah.”  

“Mmm, it’s been a while, I might need a reminder of what this looks like… What it _feels_ like…” 

Clarke drops to her knees and laves her tongue along his waist as she unbuckles his belt and unfastens his pants.  He can’t resist tangling his fingers into her hair, pulling the strands away from her face and into a ponytail so he can see her more clearly.  When he tugs a little, her responding groan is fucking magical.  She hooks her fingers in the waistband of his boxer-briefs and peels them down, then gasps as his cock springs free of its confines.  She looks up at him with parted lips, her face a picture of sheer _lust._   Yeah, her cock-shock face is a turn-on every fucking time.  She wraps her small hand around his length with a triumphant grin and licks her lips. 

“I’ve been wanting to get my mouth on your cock all week.” 

“Is that right?”  He echoes her tease from earlier.

“Mmmhmm…”  She’s killing him with the _mmm_ noises tonight. Her husky voice makes him light-headed, and as much as he craves her mouth around him, he can’t have it right now.  Before he’s completely out of his head, he lets go of her hair and stops her.     

“That’s enough.”  Bellamy shakes his head while he pulls his belt out of the loops.  He takes her hands off his hips and brings them together above her head.  She gives him a lopsided smile as he carefully wraps the belt around her wrists, then guides her body to lean back against the seat of the couch.  He takes his time to unfasten each button of her top as she pants heavily beneath him.  He rakes his gaze over her outstretched body, and _fuck_ she’s stunning. 

“You’re wearing that lacy bra again.”  He brushes the backs of his knuckles over her nipples and coaxes them into a state so hard, they poke right through the material.  It’s a sight to fucking behold. 

She beams, “You noticed.”

“I always notice, Clarke.” 

With one hand pinning her wrists above her head, he looms over her arched body. Her mewls become yearning, desperate when he brings his thumb to her mouth and scrapes his nail across her parted lips.  With a salacious glint in her eyes, she flicks the tip of her tongue against it and draws an unrecognizable moan from deep in his throat.  Stunned, he watches as she closes her lips around it.  His breath hitches as she sucks it deep into the wet heat of her mouth, laves her tongue around it, and _fuck…_ It’s all he can do not to ravage her right there.  He covers her mouth with his own, indescribably turned on by the act of kissing her, no, _possessing_ _her_ with his mouth, while his thumb remains between them. 

Suddenly lightheaded, they break for air and he rests his forehead against hers.  Above them, he feels her fingers wriggle and stretch, blindly seeking his.  He feels a tightness in his chest at the stunning intimacy of intertwining his fingers with hers.  He cards his free hand into her soft curls, cradles her face and traces her cheek with his thumb.  Their breaths mingle, lips almost but not quite touching, as they just _exist_ together. 

 _Finally,_ he regains some semblance of self-control.  With a chaste kiss, he pulls his head back and curls a finger to tuck a stray hair behind her ear before he trails down. Her neck twitches under his finger as he drags it toward her collarbone.  She gives him a breathy sigh as he draws a line through the beads of sweat gathered down her sternum.  He traces a path around the undersides of her breasts and lightly thumbs her pebbled nipples though the lace of her bra. 

“Bellamy,” She whines.  

“Yes, Clarke?” He smirks as his sweeping touches along her midline make her greedy and she thrusts her hips toward him in search of contact. 

“Stop fucking teasing me…”  As if to make her point, she spreads her knees apart and opens herself wide for him.

With a soft laugh he cups his hand and makes soft, tickling, barely-there strokes with his fingers over the drenched lips of her cunt.  He slants his mouth over hers and swallows her frustrated whimpers.  Clarke’s lips quiver against his when he parts her folds and teases her with his finger.  She whines as he strokes her everywhere but her aching clit.  He stills her squirming hips with the heel of his hand on her mons and smiles against her lips as she relents to his treatment.  Satisfied that she’ll leave her arms above her head, he brings his hand to her cheek. 

“ _Beautiful_ …” He murmurs as she leans into his palm.  His fingertips dance lightly along her cheek and down her throat before he curls them behind the nape of her neck.  She opens her eyes and snaps her gaze to his when his thumb settles over her windpipe.  He won’t press down, he never does… He knows she appreciates his hand just _being_ there. 

She peels into his soul with her eyes, and the hunger in her gaze is absolutely intoxicating.  He presses his lips to hers and he’s almost shocked by the intensity with which she returns the kiss.  She thrusts her tongue deep into his mouth when he sinks a finger, then two into her dripping cunt.  With a grunt, she licks into him, showing him _exactly_ what she wants his fingers to do inside of her.  He mimics the movements of her tongue with his fingers until she loses coherence, too lost in her bliss to even _try_ to tell him what to do anymore.  _That’s_ when he lets his thumb fall to her clit.  He pulls away so he can get a full view of her writhing body and watch her truly fall apart for him. 

“I wanna see you come, Clarke…”  She grinds herself against his hand with a lustful moan.  It doesn’t take long before he feels the quivering of her walls around his fingers.  He dips down again and purrs in her ear, “Come for me…”   Within moments of pressing tight circles to her throbbing clit, she cries out as her back arches up and her cunt clenches powerfully around his fingers.  He watches her with a pleased smile, keeps his fingers moving gently within her while she comes back down. 

Clarke sighs contentedly, “I think that was… just what I needed.” 

Bellamy smirks, pulls his hand out and holds her gaze while he sucks her arousal off his fingers.  “I’m not done with you yet…”  She smiles and gives him an indulgent wiggle of her body, that way she _knows_ makes his head spin.  

“Can we move, though?  The couch is… uncomfortable like this.”  Bellamy nods in agreement as he brings her hands up and unfastens the belt from around her wrists.  She rolls her wrists and stretches her fingers out as he tosses the belt to the side. 

Bellamy tucks himself back into his pants, jolting at the contact of his own hand.  Yeah, it’s nearly painful, but it’s nothing he’s not already used to and practiced in… Even so, it’s been months since he’s had to deny himself this release. 

She tilts her head toward the belt, “I like when you do that.” 

He grins, “I know… And how else was I supposed to get you to keep your hands to yourself.” 

Clarke raises an eyebrow, “Well, I can think of a few ways to keep them occupied.” 

Bellamy huffs at her challenge, “Oh, really?”  He pulls her up from the couch and tugs her body into his.  She curls her fingers along his arms while his hands wander over her skin.  He kisses her, kneads his fingers into the supple flesh of her ass, revels in the sinful sounds that come from deep in her throat. 

“Bedroom,” She tells him as she breaks away with a smile.

He laughs as he turns her around and pushes her that direction, but hangs back for a few strides just to watch the way her body moves as she walks away.  She knows he’s into her figure, though it took a bit of convincing to get her to believe it at first.  It was baffling to him that she had any insecurities about her body.  But the way she described it, comparing herself to girls he worked with, made him all the more determined to show her exactly how consumed he was with _hers_.  He thinks she’s pretty well-convinced now. 

She calls over her shoulder, “You coming or not?”

He shrugs with a smug grin, “I’m enjoying the view.” 

Clarke shrugs, nonchalant, as she sheds her button-down shirt.  She lets it fall to the floor, doesn’t bother to pick it up. “I guess I’ll have to get started without you.”  Well.  That gets him going.  He picks up the pace and reaches her bedroom just after she does.  She nods toward her bed while she steps to the other side of the room to pick out some music.  “Go ahead and sit down.”  She opens up her laptop, “I’ll be a minute.” 

He huffs a laugh and sits on her bed.  He lies back on the mattress and looks over at her, watches the way her hip pops to the side while she stands at her dresser.  He’s completely gone for the way she bites her lip while she scrolls through her music selection, a focused frown etched onto her features. 

Finally satisfied with her selection, Clarke smiles, “That’ll do.”  She gives him a grin when music comes on through the speakers, softly sways her hips to the rhythm as she makes her way back to him. 

“Come over here.”  Bellamy isn’t exactly proud of the desperation in his voice, but he can see by the dark look in her eye that she revels in his desire for her.  He reaches for her, wraps his hand around her waist and pulls her into him.  She stands between his parted knees while he attaches his lips to her side and smooths his palm along her supple curves.  He splays his hand across her lower back and his heart stutters at the way she curls her body around him.  He traps her skin between his teeth and abrades it harshly with his tongue, certain to leave a deep red mark.  Her responding groan is loud and reckless, and the desperate sound goes straight to his cock. 

Clarke brings a fist to her mouth to muffle her cries, but he pulls it away with a gentle shake of his head, “Nuh uh, I wanna _hear_ you, baby.” 

She protests, “The neighbors-” 

Bellamy chuckles, “Fuck them.  What are they gonna do, get jealous?” 

She considers it for a moment before she relents.  She nods with a breathy laugh, “Yeah, okay… fuck them.” 

He smiles against her skin, “Atta girl…” Her skin jumps under his fingers as he caresses her sides.  “And babe?”  

She sighs, “Yeah?” 

“I _want_ your neighbors to know I’m fucking you.” 

She starts to roll her eyes, “Oh my fucking god...”  He’s sure she means to sound unimpressed, but as he yanks a cup of her bra down and sinks his teeth into the newly revealed flesh, it’s more of a drawn-out groan.  

Her breaths become ragged while he trails wet kisses along her torso.  While he explores her with his tongue, he hooks a finger underneath the band of her bra and just holds it there, waiting to see just how long she’ll go before she tries to get him to do something about it.  She gives him encouraging whimpers while she squirms suggestively.  When that doesn’t work, she trails her fingers along his arm and gives it a squeeze.  He smirks up at her and she digs her fingernails into the flesh of his forearm.  

“Bellamy, _please!_ ” 

When Clarke begs, he’s fucking _into_ it.  She could unhook her bra herself and she knows it, but she wants _him_ to do it.  A surge of ascendency courses through him when she radiates _need_ like this.  He doesn’t keep her waiting for long.  He unhooks the band and it springs open.  Any semblance of his self-control evaporates as soon as her bra straps begin to fall down her arms.  He makes short work of the bra while he turns her to face him fully, and _fuck_ this is where she will always, always have him. 

The smirk on her face tells him that tables have, without question, turned.  This is how it is with them – a constant push and pull.  Bellamy is enthralled by the way she succumbs to the things he does to her, the way she falls into a state of mindless need under his handling.  He is unabashedly addicted to the way she falls apart for him. 

Clarke likes to rile him up, loves seeing evidence of her incredible effect on him.  He sees the glint of triumph in her eyes when he loses his train of thought because of really _anything_ to do with her breasts.  There is so much more to her than her body, and he feels that fact all the way to his core.  For now, she uses it to express the things she can’t yet say.  She’s not ready to hear the things he wants to tell her (and he’s probably not ready to say them), so he shows his devotion to her by giving her every kind of pleasure he can to make sure she knows _exactly_ she means to him. 

His thoughts are interrupted by the scrape of her blunt nails against his scalp. He cups her tits, feels their heaviness in his hands, squeezes them together.  He rakes his thumbs over her pebbled nipples and smiles when she tugs at his hair. 

“You like that?”  

Clarke huffs with an eye roll, “You _know_ I do.”  

Bellamy grins, “Yeah… But I like to hear you say it.”   

She sighs wantonly when he closes his lips over a nipple, draws it into his mouth and suckles at it.  He pulls back and tugs her nipple away from the rest of her body, and she rewards him with a licentious moan that travels straight to his cock. 

“Oh, _fuck,_ Bellamy… That’s good.”  He repeats this treatment on her other breast and _fuck_ he wants to hear more of her obscene cries.  Her breath hitches and he _knows_ what she needs.  

“You want more, Clarke?” 

She nods, eyes closed and chest heaving, “Yeah, I really do.” 

“Tell me what you want.” 

“I want your fingers, Bell.” 

Bellamy quirks an eyebrow, “I can give that to you.” He drags his fingers back up her chest, ghosts them along her neck, presses them to her bottom lip until she parts them and grants him entrance.  She sucks obscenely at them until he pulls them away, marvels at the way they glisten with saliva.

Clarke wiggles her hips to get his attention, “I want them in my pussy, Bell.” 

He smiles as he complies, “You know I love it when you talk dirty.” 

She sighs with a sultry grin, “You know I love it when you get me too worked up to talk at all…”

Fuck, when she says shit like that, it makes his head a little hazy with desire. He parts her folds, teases her opening with his fingers, relishes her vulgar responses.  He plunges his fingers back into her dripping cunt and twists them around, sighing lustfully at the reminder of how fucking _perfect_ she feels around him. 

“Jesus, Clarke… you’re fucking incredible.” 

She whimpers above him when he crooks his fingers inside of her and strokes at her inner walls with precision.  He sees her legs wobble, and knows it’s time to give her some relief.  He steadies himself with one hand behind him while his fingers stay buried deep inside of her.  He lifts his mouth away from her tits for a moment so he can see her face as he tugs her into his lap, pulling her whole body into him with nothing but his fingers hooked into her cunt. 

“Oh my _god_ , Bellamy.”  Her breathlessness sends his mind reeling in the best way.  He grasps her chin and tilts it down so he can fully see her face.  She cups his cheek with one hand, cards her fingers through his hair with the other, and then crushes her lips to his.  She cries out against his mouth when he ups his efforts with his hand, determined to see her come apart again.  But _fuck_ he wants his mouth on her, too. He wants to _taste_ her as she comes apart.   

“Come on, Clarke, I want you to come on my fingers again…”  He attaches his mouth to her tits, using his free hand to tweak and pull at one breast while he gently laves his tongue over her other nipple.  He can hear the frustration in her whimpers.  

“Bell, I need-”

 He hums against her skin, “I’ve got you.  Just tell me what you need, baby…”  She frowns and he’s brings his thumb to her face to coax away the wrinkle in between her brows.  “What do you need from me?” 

She clearly has difficulty verbalizing her request (Yeah, he’s proud of that) “Your fingers… more. ” 

He murmurs against her neck, “You want another one?”

Clarke nods with a thick swallow, “Yeah, fuck… _please_.” 

Bellamy smirks and thrusts a third finger into her dripping cunt.  He wraps his other hand around her hip and guides heir pelvis in a rolling motion so her clit grinds against the heel of his hand. “How about that?  That feel good?” 

The way she digs her fingernails into his shoulder and kneads at her own tits, tells him that yeah, that feels real good.  She’s close, he can feel the fluttering of her walls around his fingers, so he vibrates his hand under her to give her that extra push to send her careening over the edge.    

“Oh my _GOD_!” Bellamy watches as her body stiffens, her mouth falls open in rapture, and finally, her cunt clenches _hard_ around his fingers.  After, she collapses forward, limp and sated. 

Bellamy trails his free hand over her sweat-covered back and soothes, “Atta girl…”  As he pulls his hand out from between them, she jolts when he accidentally brushes her hypersensitive clit. 

Clarke turns her face into his neck, brushes his skin with her lips, “ _Bellamy,”_ his name now a delirious sound falling from her lips.  “I want your cock… I want it in me so bad.”  As his lips brush the side of her neck, her voice strains, “I wish I could feel you inside of me…”

He presses a kiss to her jaw, “Fuck… you know I want that too.”  He talks low in her ear, “But you know if I sink into that perfect cunt of yours, it’ll be game over.”  He watches earnestly the way her entire body shivers.  “I won’t be able to hold myself back…”

“Come on, Bell… You’ve got incredible control.”

He cradles her face in his palm, searches her eyes, “Not with you, I don’t.” 

 _Something_ flickers in her eyes at his admission, and he panics with that same jolt of insecurity he felt before, that she’s not in this like he is.  Before she can reply, he pulls her into a deep kiss.  Relief floods his body when she returns it with a ferocity he’s only ever experienced with _her._     

He lays her on her back, covers her body with his own, and kisses her again, licks deep into her as he trails hand along her body. .  He savors the softness of her skin as he drags his lips along her cheek, her jawline.  She shudders when he licks teasingly at the spot behind her ear, salty with the taste of her sweat. 

He breathes against her skin, “I still owe you another orgasm.” 

“Yeah, okay…” Clarke’s rasping laugh is music to his ears. “If you insist.” 

Bellamy grins, “Oh, I insist.”  And makes his way down her body, spending a generous amount of time just _feeling_ the softness of her skin against his.  He pauses to suck a dark mark into the side of her breast, because the caveman inside him has to lay claim somehow… He knows she fucking loves it, too.  When she holds his head there, tells him to “do it right,” he can’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction, that on some level, she wants to be marked as _his_. 

He savors the salty taste of her skin as he licks patterns along a winding path to her cunt.  He pauses when he gets where he wants to be, takes a moment to commit to memory (for the hundredth time) the sight of Clarke, lying before him, wanting, desperate, and fucking _beautiful._   Soon enough, she squirms impatiently, wordlessly demanding that he get on with it.  With a knowing grin, he parts her bent knees, spreads her wide until the outsides of her thighs lie flat against the mattress.

Clarke’s cries grow more feral with each open-mouth kiss he presses to her inner thighs, alternating sides in a path from her knees toward her center.  He watches her chest heave as he gently massages the skin between the hollow of her hips and her labia, letting her writhe until she’s nearly sobbing.  Then finally, _finally,_ he spreads her lips open with his thumbs, bares the most intimate part of her to his hungry gaze. 

“Fuck, Clarke.”  He draws a finger lightly along her inner lips, then dips it into her slit to gather some of her wetness.  He talks to her while he lightly traces the ridges and valleys between her folds, carefully avoiding her clit as it recovers from her last orgasm.  “You know, when I’m just getting started on you, your cunt is this gorgeous, full, pink color.”  An embarrassed blush creeps all over her body and she squirms, trying to close her legs.  He nips at her inner thigh while he keeps her pinned down and spread open with his forearms, “Come on, don’t be shy… it’s so fucking hot.”

She sighs, a needy sound that makes his own erection downright painful against the confines of his pants.  She squirms more under his gaze while he keeps talking, “Right now, baby, your whole cunt is swollen, red, and fucking _hungry_ for more.”  Clarke nods frantically and writhes under him, but he knows she’s not trying to get away or hide herself this time.  “Fuck, I wanna get my tongue in you, Clarke… I want you to come while my tongue is deep inside of you.”  Clarke gives her enthusiastic approval with incoherent syllables and a frantic nod of her head. 

He marvels at her dazed state, “God, I fucking love it when you’re this fucking wrecked for me.”  He slowly trails his finger along the contours of her cunt.  She tangles her fingers in his hair and he hisses when she pulls, impatient for him to give her more.  He laughs gently against her as he traces the path of his fingers with his tongue, licks at her more rigorously each time he grazes her slit until he’s _fucking her_ with his tongue.  When her toes are frozen in place, that’s when he knows he’s hit the right spot inside of her.  Bellamy’s head goes hazy with a high he gets from Clarke alone.  Something about the way she comes apart for makes him dizzy with power.  Her legs shake and her walls flutter around his tongue and he knows she’s about to come undone.  His brain short-circuits as she completely fucking _loses_ it. 

 _“Bellamy!”_ she screams out, loud and filthy and just how he wants it.  She rolls her hips against his mouth and arches her body up so hard he has to use nearly all his strength to hold her in place.  He helps her ride out her high, eases her through it with his touch.  After a few minutes of soft licks and gentle coaxing, she still hasn’t come down. 

She pleads, _“Bellamy.”_ Her trembling hands find his and he laces their fingers together. 

“What do you need, Clarke?”

She tightens her grip, almost painfully, and digs their wrists into the mattress below.  “You.  I need _you._ ” 

His heart lurches with those words and he presses a long kiss to the inside of her thigh.  He’s fucking deluding himself if he thinks he can deny her. 

Bellamy nods, “Yeah… Yeah, alright.”  He murmurs into her skin, “Shh, I’ve got you.”  

He laves his tongue into the hollow of her hip while he gathers his bearings.  He gently nips at the flesh of her mons and gives her fingers a quick squeeze before he extricates his own from her grip. 

“I’ll take care of you…” 

With a gentle smile, he unbuttons his pants with one hand while the other rests steadily on her calf.  He doesn’t bother to suppress the relieved groan as his cock springs free of its confines.  Clarke slides her tongue lasciviously along her lips as he makes his way back up her body.  She hooks her toes into the waist of his pants and pushes them down his legs, then rocks up against him as he kicks them the rest of the way off. 

Finally hovering above her, he cages her head between his forearms, soothes her with a kiss when he accidentally pulls her hair.  He settles into the cradle of her hips and lingers there, brushes her hair away from her forehead and peppers her face with soft kisses.  To his satisfaction, she rests there, content and serene.  He knew, the moment he kissed her tonight, that he would end up right here, settled above her and ready to fuck her any way she wants him to.  Because he will _always_ give her what she wants.  He shakes his head and laughs softly. 

Clarke narrows her eyes, “What?”

He presses a sweet kiss to the line between her brows, “I don’t know why I thought I could resist this.” 

With a deep breath and a triumphant smile, she rakes her fingers through his hair and pulls him down into a burning kiss.  She kisses him like he’s the oxygen she needs to breathe, crushes herself against him like she’s trying to fuse their bodies together.  She rolls her hips against his and it’s like a jolt of electricity shoots through every nerve in his body.  He breaks the kiss with a sharp inhale, drops his forehead against hers with a sigh. 

Clarke drags her toe up his calf, slowly but purposefully.  She reaches between them and lines him up to her entrance while he catches her ankle with a grin and hikes her leg around his waist.  Finally, he sinks into her and _holy fuck_ she feels incredible.  After an entire night of denying himself, he can’t hold back his pleasured growl at the decadence of her cunt as her body welcomes him in.  She’s hot and slick and swollen after three orgasms and oh _god_ it feels incredible to be inside her like this. 

“Jesus, Clarke… You feel so good around me like this.”  He rasps, “So fucking good…”

He kisses her, deep and demanding, completely taken by the way she massages her tongue with his.  She clenches around him and his whole body tenses with bliss. 

He growls against her lips, “Baby, if you keep that up, this isn’t gonna last long.” 

She clamps down again with an impish grin, “What, that?” 

“Oh, so that’s how this is going to be?” He huffs with a smirk.  She tightens around him as he pulls out slowly and _fuck_ that’s the best kind of torture. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna last long, either,” she assures him breathlessly as he pushes back in, slowly, that way he knows drives her crazy.  She hikes her other leg around his waist and wraps her arms around him, squeezing him tight as she rocks against him faster,  “Now come on, and _fuck_ me.”  She whines, “Fuck me _hard_.” 

Clarke’s breath hitches and her eyes darken at the snarling sound that escapes him.  She bites her lip with feigned meekness as he unwraps her arms one at a time, and slams her wrists into the mattress by her head.  Her body shivers and the glimmer in her eye tells him that yeah, he’s playing right into her provocations.  He’s giving her exactly what she wants. 

Bellamy smooths his palms along hers, tangles their fingers together as he noses her jaw up to grant him access to the long line of her neck.  He attaches his lips to her neck, laves his tongue over her thundering pulse point as he pulls out again.  He waits for her to tighten her fingers around his, revels in the choked sound of her plea, “ _Fuck me!”_

He does. 

He sets a punishing rhythm, snapping his hips against hers as she meets each thrust with vigor.  He positions his arm above her, cradles her head in the crook of his elbow to protect her from hitting the headboard above them as he thrusts into her _hard_.  Her wanton moans below him make him heady, dizzy.  He can hear that she’s close, nearly over the edge.  When her walls flutter around him, he just lets himself go.  As climax nears, his mind goes empty while every sensation in his body charges to a single point.  Finally, her walls clench around him, and he can vaguely register the erotic harmony of his wrecked moans with hers as he releases everything into her.  His entire body goes numb and he collapses on top of her, lost to the bliss she affords him. 

He’s unable to move for a moment while their chests heave together.  He realizes he’s completely crushing her under his weight, so he starts to roll off of her with a groan.  She tightens her legs around him and he has to grin at the fact that she won’t let him go just yet.  He’s more than happy to recover inside of her… He’s obscenely turned on by the sensation of their combined come dripping out of her and onto their thighs.  It’s something he never experienced before Clarke, and he savors it every fucking time.   

Bellamy feels fingers rake through his hair, sending pleasured goosebumps over his whole body.  He opens his eyes and is met with Clarke’s lazy smile.  He massages his fingers against her scalp while he presses a kiss to her forehead, pleased that the line between her brows is gone. 

“Thank you,” she whispers, barely audible. 

He shakes his head, grinning, “You’re thanking _me?_   I should be thanking you, because _fuck…_ ” 

She smirks, “You can do that, too.” 

He pecks a kiss to her nose, “Thank you.”

“That was _good_ …”  She thinks a little longer, “Better than good…”  She asks, “Have I had four orgasms in a row before?” 

He smiles, “In a row? I don’t know.” 

She waggles her eyebrows, “I’ve had four in a night before, but not in a _row_ , I don’t think.” 

“Give me a few minutes, we can go for number five.” 

She laughs, “I can’t handle another one right now… And you need to rest up for tomorrow.”  Then her face falls, “Fuck, Bell… I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have asked you to do that.  What about your shoot tomorrow?” 

He grasps her chin in his thumb and turns her head to face her, “Clarke, you have nothing to be sorry for.”  He smiles, “And believe me when I say this, because I mean it from the bottom of my heart…”  She raises an eyebrow and waits for him to continue.  “Fuck. Them.” 

She breaks down into a fit of laughter, “Okay… fuck them.” 

He noses her jaw with a grin, huffs against the sensitive parts of her neck, “Well, I’d rather fuck you…”  Ticklish, she squirms with a shriek, but he pulls her close again and draws her into another kiss.  Simple, sweet, and lingering.  They break apart and he takes an inordinate amount of pride in her dazed expression. 

“Go to sleep, Clarke.” 

She smiles and closes her eyes, “Night…”

He follows quickly behind her. 

* * *

 

Bellamy is on set and it is already not going well. He has never, ever had performance issues before, and this is a hell of a day to be unable to get it up.

His costar, Alyssa, comes over to say hi.  They’ve worked together before and he likes her just fine, but it’s painfully obvious he’s not into this. Thankfully, she doesn’t seem too offended.

She nods at his half-hard dick, “Need some help with that?”

Bellamy shakes his head with a sardonic laugh, “No, just give me a minute.”

She shrugs, “Alright, I’ll see you out there.  You know, whenever you’re ready.” 

Bellamy leans back in his chair, wraps his hand around his cock and closes his eyes.  He thinks of Clarke last night.  Her beatific expression as she fell apart on his hand, the desperate way she begged him to fuck her… he strokes himself slowly releases a breath and lets his tension leave with it.  He tightens his grip slightly as he takes himself back to the way she cried out in bliss as he crooked his fingers inside of her and tugged her into his lap.  A growl escapes him when he thinks about his thumb tracing her parted lips, touching the tip of her tongue-

“Alright, you’re up.”  The director’s jarring interruption takes him right back to square one. 

He sighs, “Goddammit…”

She snorts teasingly, “Or not.” If he didn’t have years of history with this director, he’d probably be offended. 

Bellamy gives her a level look, “Real cute.” 

“I’ll call Echo over if you need a fluffer.” 

Bellamy rolls his eyes, “I don’t want a goddamn fluffer.  Just… give me a minute.” 

“You get ten before you’re popping a Viagra.” 

Bellamy narrows his eyes at the suggestion.  He’s never used it before, he’s not going to start now. He shoos her away with a smirk, “Yeah, yeah… I’ll be right back.”  He grabs his phone and ducks into an empty room.  He navigates to his call log and taps Clarke’s name.  He’s not sure if she’s still sleeping, but he’ll take her voicemail greeting.  He just needs to _hear_ her.  Relief floods his body when she picks up after the second ring.

“Bellamy?”  Her voice sounds thick with sleep, and he suddenly feels like an ass for waking her up.

“Shit, did I wake you up?  You sound like you were sleeping.” 

She laughs softly, “No… I’ve been awake for a little bit, I just haven’t gotten out of bed yet.” 

“Okay, that’s good.” He can’t help but smile when he thinks about the sleepy grin she gives him on the mornings he wakes up next to her. 

Attuned as always, her voice becomes concerned, “What’s going on?”

He sighs, scrubs his hand over his face, “I don’t think I can do this, Clarke.”

“Do what, the shoot?”

“Yeah.”  He nods, even though she can’t see him, “It’s just… not happening.” 

“I’m confused… are they sending you home or something?”

“No,” He laughs. “They’ll dose me with Viagra before they do that.” 

“I see. Tell me what the problem is.” 

“I don’t know, maybe it’s been too long.  Maybe it’s the pressure, maybe it’s because she’s not you, but something is keeping this from _happening_.”

She gives him a thoughtful “Oh.”  After a moment, “What if you think of me when you do it?” 

He huffs with doubt, “Think of you while I’m… fucking her?”  He winces at the sour taste of the word – _fucking_ – when he thinks of doing it without Clarke.

He can practically _see_ her roll her eyes that way she does.  “Well, I mean, I don’t know how easy that’ll be… who is it?”   

“Ayssa Ryder.”  She’s a willowy, olive-skinned girl with straight back hair.  He couldn’t think of a person who looked less like Clarke if he tried. 

Still, Clarke’s voice perks up, “Ooh, I like her!” 

Bellamy snorts and leans against the wall.  “Of course you do.”  Yeah, thinking about Clarke with another woman is a huge fucking turn-on.  

Okay, think about this…”  Her voice is confident now, like she’s got a plan, and f _uck_ that’s exactly what he needs right now.  “

“I’m listening.”

“So, you know your costars get me hot.  Remember when we talked about that?”  He grins at the memory of those conversations, when she’d told him, in explicit detail, what she liked about the girls he’d worked with.  He’s glad they’re all girls.  He’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to know if there are any other male porn stars she finds attractive.  He’s happy to corner that market. 

“Remember how I told you my fantasies, about what I wanted them to do to me?” 

“Fuck, yeah I do.”  He feels his cock twitch when he thinks about the intense sex they had afterwards.  “Okay, this is good.  This is helping.”  His hand finds its way to his abdomen and he rubs his palm teasingly along it.  He doesn’t touch himself just yet, he gives himself some time to get it up without direct stimulation.  “Keep talking, babe.” 

Clarke continues, “Like, Jordyn Fuego, she’s got a pretty mouth…”  She gives Bellamy a breathy moan, “Do you remember what I said about her lips?” 

“Yeah… you said you’d want her to eat you out.” 

“Mmm hmm…”  He smiles because he _knows_ Clarke is turning herself on just as much as him, and that’s fucking magical to think about.  “I said I want to feel her lips press an open-mouth kiss to my cunt… I bet she could get some really nice suction there,” She sighs, a truly depraved noise, and he fucking loves it. “I bet she would work me over real good.” 

The background sound from her end changes slightly, “Did you just put the phone on speaker?”

“Mmmm,” her drawn-out moan has a potent effect on his cock.  “I need my hands, Bell.” 

“Fuck, Clarke… That’s good, keep talking.” 

“Remember Alice Little?  Remember when I asked you about her tongue?” 

He clears his throat, “Yeah.  I remember.” 

“You didn’t get a chance to answer me that night… do you think she’d be able to reach as far as you do if she tongue-fucked me?”  He didn’t manage to answer it because he had Clarke on her back within seconds, choosing instead to show her just how deep _he_ could tongue-fuck her. 

Bellamy huffs, “ _Fuck_ … maybe, she’s got a good tongue on her.” 

Clarke’s voice shudders, and he knows she’s touching herself now.  The strain in her voice is intoxicating, “Bellamy?”

He clears his throat, “Yeah, Clarke?” 

“You know what I like about Alyssa?”

“What’s that?” 

Clarke groans, “She’s got lips like Jordyn, and a tongue like Alice.  Right?” 

Bellamy groans, “Yeah.  Yeah she does.” 

“So while you’re… working today, you know what I’m going to be doing?”

“What’s that?” 

“I’m going to be thinking of all the things I’ve seen them do on camera…”  Her breathy sigh nearly undoes him, “Fuck, I’m _already_ thinking about them doing those things to me.”  She moans, “I’m thinking about you watching us, stroking your gorgeous cock while Alyssa fucks me with her tongue…” Clarke groans something filthy, “God, you know what would be even better?”

Bellamy hums, “What’s that?”

“If _you_ fucked me while Jordyn played with my clit.” 

Bellamy chokes on air, “Holy fucking shit, babe…”

Clarke sighs happily on her end, “Babe, I know you said you like my tits better than theirs…”

He grins, “None of them compare to yours, Clarke.” 

“I know, I know… They’re great.”  He can hear the smug smile in her voice. 

He hears her faint moan and has to know, “Fuck, are you touching your tits, Clarke?” 

“Yeah. I am.  I’m trying to pretend it’s you, baby, but you know my hands are too small for that.”  He has to deliberately take his hand away from the vicinity of his cock when she talks about her own tits.  “But Bell, you know whose tits I wanna touch?” 

“Whose?”

“Alyssa Ryder’s.”  Clarke’s heady sigh is about all he can take before he loses it, “Bell, touch her the way you think I would touch her.  Can you do that for me?” 

He drops his head back against the door frame with a rough groan, “ _Fuck_ , okay…” 

“I want to know what she does…”

“Holy fuck…”

“I want to watch that video someday and feel like it was _me_ touching her…”

He chuckles, “Jesus Christ.  You’re fucking incredible, you know that?”  He’s rock hard at this point, so now he has to concentrate on _not_ blowing his load before he gets off the phone. 

He can hear the grin in her voice when she asks languidly, “You good to go, now?”

He laughs, “I’ve been good to go for a while, now… I just like to hear you talk.” 

Clarke groans, “I like to hear _you_ talk… you already know that.” 

“Yeah, I know.”  He knows the grin on his face is smug as hell.

“Bell, can you do something for me?”

“Anything.”

Clarke clears her throat, “I want you to remember every detail from work today.”  He notices she said _work_.  It’s a good reminder that that’s all this is, which he knows was her intent.  She’s a fucking genius.  She continues, “Do you know _why_ I want you to remember?”

“Why?”

Her voice takes on a truly obscene quality, “Because, I want you to do _all of it_ to me.” 

“Holy fuck."    

“So make sure you do it good…”

Bellamy pinches the bridge of his nose in near disbelief, “I’ve got the best fucking girlfriend.” 

Clarke’s breath hitches on her end and he nearly panics because part of that whole “undefined” aspect of their relationship is what to call each other.  She didn’t give him permission to call her that.  Before he can over-think it, she answers, “Yeah, you bet your ass you do.”  He closes his eyes and doesn’t bother to conceal his relieved sigh.  She laughs softly, “I’ll talk to you later, Bell.” 

“Yeah, okay.”  Before she hangs up, he cuts in, “Hey, are you gonna get yourself off after this?”

She gives him a licentious moan, “You know I already am… and I’m gonna keep going all fucking day…” 

He grins, “Good.”

“I’ll see you tonight, Bell.”  He can hear it in her voice, she’s already so far gone, and it won’t be long before she comes.  That makes him feel a lot better about this. 

“Yeah, I’ll see you tonight.” 

He drops the phone into the pocket of his robe, then makes his way back to the set. 

The director looks him over, “Good, you’re ready to go.” 

Bellamy huffs, “Yeah, let’s fucking do this.” 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, that short update turned into 10k words… oops? Not sorry. 
> 
> Thank you to [Kayla](http://clarkeisgriffine.tumblr.com) for Bellamy’s pornstar colleagues’ names. They’re brilliant. And of course, I can’t forget to thank [Mandy](http://bittyab18.tumblr.com) for the prompt that started this whole thing. 
> 
> Somehow, this fic developed an actual plot, so there’s more to come… I want to thank you guys for sticking with me through these long breaks between updates. It means the world to know you guys are still reading. 
> 
> **KUDOS** and **COMMENTS** are like fuel for writers, so please take a moment to leave some if you’re enjoying this! It is super motivating to get them. It makes me excited every single time I get an email notification :) 
> 
> Come find me on [tumblr](http://missemarissa.tumblr.com)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke isn't quite sure what to expect when Bellamy makes good on his promise to recreate his final porn scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, as always, THANK YOU so much for all the support you guys give with your kudos and comments! I cherish each and every one of them. I haven’t even gotten started on replies to last chapter’s comments, so I’ll be working on those over the next few days. Please, please keep them coming! They are like fuel! 
> 
> A quick shout-out to [Maggie](http://bellohmyblake.tumblr.com) for the daily dirty inspiration. And for encouraging me to get this done!

Clarke isn't quite sure what to expect when Bellamy makes good on his promise to recreate his final porn scene. He told her the gist of it, and it sounds hot as hell. But standing here in his kitchen, waiting for him to come back from taking the trash to the chute, she's starting to overthink things. For starters, she isn't sure how to initiate it. Does she walk into the room and announce "action?"  Should she have set up props? Does he even want to do it tonight? There's a lot more to consider then she initially thought.

Bellamy is the professional here, so she'll follow his lead. She hears music come on in the living room. It's instrumental, and not something she recognizes, but it's got a decent beat and a neutral melodic pattern. It's a bit repetitive for her taste, but not offensively so. It reminds her of the background music in some of Bellamy's videos. That's one of the things she appreciates about his studio. The music isn't too porn-y, but still sounds like something that exists solely as background music for a marathon fuck session.

Oh.

Just as she puts the pieces together, Bellamy returns to the kitchen. He stops at the entryway and leans against the wall while he rakes his gaze up and down her very much still clothed body. They are definitely going to fuck. Soon, if the predatory expression on his face is anything to go by. Except he just keeps standing there. If he doesn't make a move, she might actually start squirming.

She raises an eyebrow, "Well?"

He steps forward and crowds her against the counter with a grin, hovers his lips above hers without touching.  She enjoys the tease at first. The denial is hot and fills her with desire for more. But then it's just... Odd. She recoils slightly, her face in a frown.

Bellamy answers her unasked question. "I didn't kiss her. For the film, I didn't kiss her."

"Oh." She closes her eyes for a moment at the unexpected relief that floods her body. Her lips quirk up just slightly, "You can kiss me, though." In an instant, she's overcome by the firm press of his lips on hers that instantly ignites a blaze of need under her skin.

Too soon, he breaks away, "Good." He presses his forehead to hers, gently tracing her jawline with his thumb until he catches it in the dimple of her chin. She can hear the smile on his lips, "I want to kiss you."  

Clarke's stomach still flips for Bellamy Blake. She has never felt so beautifully consumed by another person as she does when he kisses her. Her pulse quickens when he softly traces the outline of her lips, the barely-there brush of his thumb making promises of what's to come. She knows she should be patient, because Bellamy will always take care of her. But god, it's hard to fight the impulse to surge forward and just steal the kiss from his stubborn lips.

As if he can sense her struggle (he can), he closes the distance between them and slants his mouth over hers. His hand slips under her shirt and he splays his fingers across her lower back to hold her closer.

"Bellamy," She whimpers, her body arching into his in search of more.  He slows it down. He feathers soft kisses over her face, both soothing and igniting her overwhelming need for him with each gentle press of his lips to her skin.

He shakes his head, "Fuck..." The low, gravelly tone of his voice does things to her, and he fucking knows it. She can't fight the shiver that shoots down her spine at the words he brands into her skin, "There are so many things I want to do to you... Things I didn't do at work yesterday."

"Mmm, like what?"

"I really want to eat you out." Okay, there's something else she's happy he didn't do with Alyssa.

Clarke nods with a quiet laugh, "Yeah, well nobody's stopping you, here." She pulls in a deep breath, basks in the intoxicating dark-wood scent of cologne that still clings to his skin. 

"Good." His growl lights up every nerve ending in her body as it resonates through her. She hisses at the sharp sting on her scalp when her hair gets caught in her shirt as he pulls it over her head.

"Shit, I'm sorry." He says **,** his brows drawn together in concern.

"I didn't say I didn't like it." Her grin is teasing.

With a smirk, he makes short work of her bra and tosses it to the side. She can't spare a second thought for the clatter of falling dishes on the other side of the kitchen.  He traps a pebbled nipple in his fingers, the harsh pinch sending a shock of pleasure straight to her clit. She cries out at the wet heat of his mouth as it engulfs her other nipple. Her white-knuckled grip on the edge of the counter is nearly painful as she struggles to stay upright under Bellamy's skilled handling. He hasn't even made it past her tits yet, and this is already so deliciously overwhelming.

His mouth releases her flesh and he steps back. 

"On your knees."

Clarke doesn't waste a second before dropping down, undeniably excited to suck his cock, considering last time she didn't even get to finish the job.  She glances up at him, the way she knows gets him going, while she unbuckles his belt and pops the button of his jeans.  She can't help but lick her lips as  she draws the zipper down. He pulls his shirt over his head and she aches to run her tongue along the expanse of his cut abdominals, but when his cock twitches inside his pants, she remembers there's something she'd much rather have her mouth on. 

She pulls his cock out of his pants with a filthy grin and wraps her small hand around his shaft.  She revels in the choked sound he makes in the back of his throat when she flicks her tongue over the head of his cock.  With both hands, he cards his fingers through her hair and gathers it into a ponytail. It’s a thing for Bellamy – he likes an unfettered view of her face when she sucks his cock. More than that, he likes being the one to hold her hair away. She smiles inside when she thinks about the time she tied it with a hair elastic once he gathered it. She thought she was doing him a favor, but he looked at her with the most confused expression. He shook his head as he removed the elastic and tossed it to the other side of the room, then resumed using his hands to hold her hair.  She didn’t bring the elastic back.  It was for the best, though. If he didn’t insist on keeping her hair in his fist, she never would’ve known that pulling her hair was one of her biggest turn-ons.

Bellamy smiles, “That’s better.” He braces his free hand against the countertop behind her head while he maintains a solid grip on her ponytail with the other.

Clarke smiles, filled with undeniable pride in the way he marvels at her. Without breaking eye contact, she lays soft kisses along the side of his shaft. She closes her eyes and cups her hands as if to cradle the length of his cock to her face while she enjoys the feel of his velvety skin on her cheek, along her nose. With a satisfied sigh, she presses his cock up against his abdomen, giving her full access to his balls.

“Oh, fuck…” His relieved groan vibrates through her when she gently sucks one, then the other into the warmth of her mouth. She releases them, then drags her tongue along the underside of his cock, licking a strong line from base to tip. His body jolts a little when she dips her tongue into his slit, but he holds himself back.

Clarke closes her lips around his head and takes him in just a few inches. Not as far as her throat, just enough for him to feel the warmth of her mouth as she applies a light suction. She quivers her tongue against him and watches his eyes flutter shut accordingly. That’s when she knows she’s got him. His jaw goes slack and his head bobs forward as she opens her mouth and takes a little more of him in before pulling away. She hollows her cheeks each time she pulls off, then takes him deeper with each go-around. When he hits her throat, his eyes shoot open in question.

With a strong suction, she pulls her mouth off of him. Before he can ask, she tells him, “I’m going to take all of you, babe.”

“Fuck, yeah you are.” His dark eyes are penetrating and send a shudder through her body.

She moans as she guides his cock back into her mouth. He hits her throat again and triggers a slight gag reflex, but she’s not one to give up. Ever.

He surrounds her with filthy words of encouragement. “I can’t wait to feel your throat around my cock.” 

She growls, quite possibly as excited as he is.

“Yeah, sucking my cock gets you going, doesn’t it?”

She rolls her eyes playfully as she lets him fall out of her mouth again, “You know it fucking does.” She was obsessed with his cock long before she even met him. If she could do this every day, she’d die happy.  She swirls her tongue around the ring of inner foreskin before she wraps her lips fully around his cock and bobs down all the way to her throat, then relaxes until he slips into it. It’s not comfortable by any stretch of the imagination, but she still fucking loves it – bringing him worlds of pleasure with just her mouth. Her scalp stings when his fingers jerk against it, a lovely involuntary response to the spasms of her throat around his cock head. That’s when she knows she’s doing it right. She takes wicked pride when he’s barely able to speak, but loves that he still tries.

“Your mouth… fuck… good, so good.” It gets harder to hear him over the whooshing of her pulse in her ears, but his voice is like a balm to her nerves. It fills the deepest parts of her with delight and she never wants to stop hearing it. She pulls back to take a desperate gasp of air before she takes him again, repeats this again and again until she hears him yell out, “Clarke- fuck, I’m gonna-!” His entire body tenses up as he reaches climax, she opens up around him again and he buries himself deep inside as spurts of come shoot straight down her throat. She keeps him there until his pulsing slows down, just before she starts to feel light-headed with oxygen deprivation.

"Fuck..." His voice is shaky. "You're so good... So fucking good." He tells her as he comes down.

Clarke is not the kind of person who needs or seeks the approval of others. Her self-worth is not measured by another person's opinions. But fuck if Bellamy's praises don't add an entire level of pleasure. Praise kink is a thing, and she is fucking into it.

She lets his spent cock fall from her lips, and gives him a satisfied grin as she wipes her mouth off with the back of her hand.  With a sigh, he lets go of her hair and it falls like a curtain. The wispy touch over her bare shoulders sends goosebumps through her body.  He catches her hand in his and pulls her to her feet.

"Your fucking mouth, babe." He skates his teeth along her collarbone.

"What about it?" She asks. Her attempt to sound seductive is belied by the need to clear her throat as it continues to recover after his exquisite invasion.

He drags his lips up her neck and growls in her ear, "It's fucking amazing..." Her eyes slam shut as he tugs her earlobe with his teeth. She luxuriates in the slide of his tongue behind her ear. She vaguely registers the wisp of her panties as they fall down her legs, because of course he's managed to finish getting her naked without her even realizing it. 

His fingers sneak into her folds while he continues to lave her neck with his tongue. He brushes lightly over her clit, once then twice, but then pulls away (because he's a fucking tease). He lifts her up so she's on the counter, her ass perched at the edge.  He grasps her ankles and folds her legs so her feet are planted on the edge on each side of her ass. She leans back on her arms, palms planted firmly on the counter behind her. When she looks down at her body, she finds she's incredibly turned on by the way she's displayed.

"Fuck, this feels really fucking hot," She's unashamed of how winded she sounds right now. 

"It is fucking hot." He grins. Her hands seek purchase on the smooth granite surface of the counter while he slides his fingers in her folds. She curls her toes over the edge, cries out when he impales her cunt with one finger, then two. "Right now, I can see every single effect I have on your body."

"Huh..." She thinks it would be nice to be able to formulate more than one syllable at a time here.

Bellamy shoots a lascivious grin, "I can see how wet you are after sucking my cock." As if there would be any doubt. "I see your pussy clenching because I'm saying all these filthy things in your ear... And when I've got my fingers in your cunt, and I move them just like this-" He crooks them inside of her, "-Your whole body comes forward for me." Oh god, he's right.  He brings his free hand to her breast, "When I play with your nipple like this, your other one gets all hard for me, without even having to touch it." 

Clarke looks down at the blatant proof, "Fuck..." Her eyes slam shut when the heel of his hand grinds against her clit, drawing a lecherous moan out of her while swells of bliss radiate from her cunt.  

He whispers in her ear, "As much as I want to watch you..." She shivers as his breath fans down her neck. "I have to taste you."

She responds with a breathy “ _oh_ ,” and he presses on her chest until she's flat on her back. She flinches at the cold granite against her shoulder blades, but quickly forgets about that discomfort as he bends forward and leaves a trail of wet kisses up her inner thighs.

"Look at you..." The pads of his fingers trail up her sides, dance lightly along the swell of her breasts. He licks the underside of one, just before he sinks his teeth into the mark he left two days ago.  She can't stop herself from rutting her hips up and grinding her cunt against his torso. While he darkens his mark he gives her an encouraging growl, so she keeps doing it. The smoothness of his skin is decadent, really, but she can't help but miss the way his happy trail would feel against her needy cunt. Thoughts for another day…

Bellamy releases her breast with a pop and inspects his mark with a broad smile. She groans at the way her skin tightens over her nipples as they pebble up with the puffs of air he blows. She shamelessly shares his satisfaction with the stark contrast of his hickey against her pale skin. He gives it a quick kiss, then trails more of them up her chest, her neck, the corner of her mouth. She sighs as he takes her lips with another scorching kiss that she could absolutely get lost in.

She whimpers in protest when he pulls away, but he growls against her neck, "I'm fucking serious about getting my mouth on your cunt, babe..." His words ring in her ears, leave her feeling heady as he makes his way back down her body. He grasps the flesh of her mons in his large hand, massages it until it flushes a deep shade of pink.

"Hang onto the edge of the counter above your head."

Clarke reaches up behind her with one hand, but gives him a raised eyebrow, "Why?"

He gives her a dirty grin from between her legs, his fingers rolling her pussy lips between them, making them swollen and sensitive… "Because you're going to come hard on my tongue, and you'll need something to hang onto." He parts her labia with his fingers while his other hand grasps the flesh of her thigh with bruising strength.

"Oh, fuck!" She cries out when he drags the flat of his tongue over her clit, curls the tip and teases it out of its hood.  He flicks it side-to-side a few times while he sinks a finger into her cunt and gathers her wetness. The wet pad of his thumb replaces his tongue and traces gently over the swollen nub while he licks into her. With expert precision, the muscle twists inside her opening to stroke her inner walls. It should be fucking impossible how deep he reaches. 

With her free hand, she kneads and pulls at her breasts, keening as a delicious pressure coils deep in her abdomen. He switches it up again, sinks two fingers into her while he closes his lips over her clit and draws it into the shocking warmth of his mouth.

In her blissful haze, she manages to choke out, "Yes, that-" thrills of pleasure crawl up her spine when he sucks harder, "-oh fuck, that's good, keep doing-" 

Her words are cut off with her ecstatic cry when he growls against her flesh, works her over in relentless pursuit of her pleasure. It's embarrassing how fast he gets her to the edge, and for once, he takes her right over it. He holds her down with his forearm while bliss floods her arched body, the back of her head grinding into the counter underneath. Her heart beats loud in her ears as she comes back down while Bellamy laps at her sensitive folds.

She finally opens her eyes and he gives her a satisfied smirk, “I’m gonna fuck you so good, baby.”

His words ring in her ears and give her unexpected pause. One of Clarke's favorite things is to hear Bellamy use pet names for her, and _Baby_ is her kryptonite. That specific phrase routinely melts her. But this time, her heart sinks and she swallows a knot in her now-dry throat. Searing pain radiates from her chest at the thought of him using that name for anyone else. This sudden wave of emotions is surprising in the worst way and she finds it impossible to silence the nagging voice in her head. Maybe this was a bad idea. What was she thinking, suggesting that they copy the scene? Did she really not predict that it would trigger something like jealousy? She swore she didn't have a problem with the job. And she meant that. She harbors no resentment toward Bellamy for it.

So why does she feel like she's going to cry?

She sits up, shakes her head in an unsuccessful attempt to clear her mind of these thoughts. She's not sure if she's bothered by the idea of Bellamy and another woman, or if she's bothered that she's bothered.

 _It's just bodies. Just a job, and they just used their bodies. That's all it was, now get a fucking grip..._  

She can feel the moment Bellamy senses the abysmal shift in the air. He cups her face, brushes his thumb along her cheek. "Clarke, what is it?" She squeezes her eyes closed, unable to meet his gaze while she gathers her thoughts. Her heart lurches at the plea in his voice, "Clarke, come on. Talk to me. What's going on?" 

"Did you call her that?" She hates that her voice feels so weak.

He frowns, "Did I call who what?"

"Alyssa. Did you call her baby?"

Bellamy's face softens, "No. Never." Clarke pulls in a chest full of air, then slowly exhales, trying to visualize the twisted feeling in her gut leaving her body with each breath. He gently traps her chin in his fingertips, "I've never called anyone _baby_."

Clarke frowns, because surely she's heard him say it before in a video. Actually, she knows she has. She clears her throat, "I'm not trying to call you a liar," She huffs an awkward laugh, "But you have totally said it on film before." She’s not sure why the hell she’s nit-picking right now.

He raises an eyebrow, "Oh yeah?"

She nods, "You say it to the camera in this one scene where you're getting yourself off." She knows, because it's her favorite. 

The corners of his mouth quirk, "Yeah, you're right."  His grin grows wide, much to Clarke's annoyance.

She shoves at him lightly while tears threaten to prick the corners of her eyes. "Stop that. Don't laugh at me."

Bellamy catches her hand in his own and holds it to his chest. His smile softens again and he holds her gaze while he covers her hand with his own and presses it down, right over his heart. She feels it beat wildly against her palm.  The silence stretches on but she knows it's because he's letting her think. She closes her eyes and lets her mind wander to the mechanism of his heart as it beats against her fingers. _Da-dum, Da-dum, Da-dum..._ The sound of valves closing in coordination with the contraction the ventricles. The repetition soothes her.

He breaks the silence, "Clarke. Look at me." She opens her eyes and snaps her gaze to his. Her heart twists at the gentleness in his expression. " _Baby_ has been yours since before we met."

She would normally roll her eyes at the sappy sentiment, but instead she just asks, "What do you mean?"

He smiles, "When I was getting myself off for the camera, who do you think was on my mind?"

She smirks, "Uh, any number of hot girls you work with?" There's no shortage of beautiful people to fantasize about in his (former) line of work. Hell, she brings them to mind herself on occasion.

He shakes his head, "I thought about the woman who slipped away before I even got to meet her."  Clarke remains quiet, unsure if she heard him correctly. He continues, "I filmed that one right after the expo."

"The one where I saw you?" She asks carefully.

He smirks, "You mean stared a hole in my head but wouldn't come to my booth? Yeah, that one."

She narrows her eyes and gives him a glare without any heat, "You're full of shit."

Bellamy shakes his head again, "I pictured you in front of me, teasing the buttons on that sweater... I imagined you wearing nothing underneath it." He smiles, satisfied with the way her body shivers for him.  "Sometimes I thought about taking apart each button with my teeth." His voice goes low while he drags his lips over her bare shoulder, "Other times I thought about just tearing it off your body, those shiny buttons flying off to every corner of the room."

Her breath hitches, "Holy shit. You're serious." Her heart is filled with inexplicable glee as she tangles her fingers in his hair and pulls his face down to hers. She crushes her lips to his and lets herself get lost in him. At the taste of herself on his tongue, her blood runs hot with desire, and with each breath, she finds needs even more. His hands glide all over her body, paying special attention to the little places he knows will have her keening. God, his hands...

She breaks away, "You know, I still have that sweater."

He pulls his head back and flashes a dark grin, "Noted." His hands squeeze her sides gently.  "We good?" He asks, his tone suddenly gentle.

She nods, scratches her nails against his scalp, "Yeah."

Her fingers flinch as his voice tickles her ear, "Good. Because I'm not done with you." He drags her ass forward, flush with the edge of the counter. While he talks, she feels the head of his cock drag up and down her slit, "I'm gonna fuck you until you can't take any more." Clarke can't bite back a smirk. There's a challenge she'll welcome any day.

"That’s a good idea," She tells him as she feels the bulbous head of his cock at her entrance. He pushes forward until it rests just inside her, then holds himself there. Excitement fills her to the brim, so much she's nearly shaking, because she knows what's coming next. She squeals at the sting of his hands where they crush the flesh of her hips.

"You ready?"

She barely finishes nodding before he snaps his hips forward while he hauls her onto his cock.

"Oh, fuck!" She cries out in rapture. He pauses there for a moment, buried to the hilt. She feels a sharp satisfaction at the way he snaps his eyes shut when her walls twitch around him in protest of the sudden invasion.

"You feel so fucking good, baby." He guides her to lie back, then grinds his hips into hers, "So fucking good around me like this."  He unwraps her legs and helps her raise them up, extends them straight toward the ceiling, then crosses them at her ankles, holding them steady with one hand.  He swivels his hips a few times, then begins to thrust into her, his cock dragging along every best part of her.

Clarke curls her fingers over the rigid edge of the counter and holds tightly for leverage to meet Bellamy’s force. She looks to the side and catches their reflection in the sliding glass door. The surface is remarkably shiny and the reflection is nearly mirror-like in quality. Warmth blooms inside of her as she drinks in the view of Bellamy's powerful gluteal muscles flexing while he fucks her. It really shouldn't surprise her that she's winding up again so quickly.  If there's anything she's learned from sex with Bellamy, it's that she's extremely sensitive to visual and aural stimuli, and he uses those very effectively. 

Bellamy's winded voice jolts her out of her thoughts, "Fuck, Clarke.  Are you watching us? You watching me fuck you?"

She nods, though she's sure the gesture is lost in Bellamy's wild thrusts. "Mmmhmm."

"That's good, baby." He grunts, "You gonna come for me like this?"

Clarke whimpers, "I don't know if I can, yet..." She means it. Something’s missing, and she’s still in a post-orgasm limbo.

He laughs good-naturedly, "Not with that attitude."  He swaps her crossed legs and she cries out at the changed path of his cock.

"Like that-" Her voice bobs each time his hips collide with hers. She relishes the new places he touches with each pass.

Bellamy grins, "Atta girl." Her body lights up when he snaps his harder, each time building her pleasure. His voice sounds slightly winded when he tells her, "Come on, I wanna feel you come on my cock."

He drives into her even harder into her with his demand and it's not long before she feels that curl of bliss deep in her abdomen, a thrilling pressure built up, demanding release. When she comes, the orgasm is less intense than before, but the ripples of pleasure that roll over her are wholly satisfying nonetheless. 

She lets her legs go slack and Bellamy spreads them open again. His eyes trail along her body, sprawled out and wide open. He fixes his ravenous gaze on her cunt, still impaled and stretched out by his hard cock.

He smirks, "I am never gonna get tired of this view."

Clarke feels a delighted laugh bubble up in her chest, "Good." 

Bellamy looks up at her and she's taken aback by the vulnerability in his eyes. It's immensely comforting to know that she's not the only one who feels this way – weak for the other, but somehow still safe. No, they haven’t verbalized this. Fuck, it wasn’t until yesterday that they even started calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend. But the depth of their feelings for each other is absolutely clear in every other way. For now, she’s satisfied with that.

She’s pulled from her thoughts when an aftershock of her orgasm quakes through her. She savors the twitch of his fingers on her body when her walls clamp down on his cock. He's still hard inside of her, and she'd be more than happy for him to fuck her all over again right here. But, she knows he's nowhere near done with her.

Bellamy slips out of her with a groan and her pussy immediately mourns his absence. He pulls her up to a sitting position, then traps her on the counter, his palms planted on each side of her thighs while he stands between her open legs.

She takes the opportunity to trail her hands over his body. He watches her intently while she glides her fingertips over the tops of his knuckles, up his forearms, flattens her palms against his skin as she guides them over his biceps and bulky shoulders. They skate down his pectorals and she admires the jump of his obliques under the soft touch of her hands. His skin is smooth under her lips as she drags them along his collarbone. She dips her tongue into the hollow of his throat, tastes the salt on his skin before she presses her mouth to his sternum. Her whole body sighs at the determined path of his palm up her spine. Goosebumps erupt everywhere when he cards his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck and strokes her scalp with his blunt nails.

Clarke is overwhelmed with a sense of rightness when she feels Bellamy's breath fan over the crown of her head while he presses a long kiss to her hair. When he tilts her face up to his, she knows the meaning of contentment as he takes her lips with his own, fits them together unhurriedly, carefully **,** like it's the first time they've touched. Not even their first kiss was this overwhelmingly tender. She melts at the way he cradles her face in his hands while he captures her bottom lip, then her top one, then finally deepens it with a moan that forms deep in his chest.

Things quickly evolve from tenderness to passion to unbridled lust. 

With his hand on her lower back, he crushes her body to his. She rolls her hips forward and her nerves scream when she feels his cock, still rock hard and ready to fuck her all over again.

"Bell... You're still hard."

He chuckles,  "We're not done yet."

She smiles against his lips, "Is that right?" 

He pecks one more kiss to her lips, then nods, "Yeah. But we need more room." He steps back and gives her space to hop off the counter, catching her body when it sways.  He turns them around and walks her slowly into the living room. When he gets to the middle of the floor, he turns her around to face him again.

Her eyes flutter shut when he frames her face with his hands, brushes them over her shoulders and down her body. With a grin, he cups her breasts in his hands to feel their heaviness in his palms. She lets her mind exist solely in this moment, sensing the sweep of his hands along her body, the caress of his breath over her shoulder, the sound of her whimpers, his whispers. She soon finds herself on her back on a blanket in the middle of the living room floor with Bellamy settled in the cradle of her hips. He attaches his lips to her neck, laves his tongue over the sensitive area while he lines himself up to her entrance. He drags his lips along her jaw, his breath hot against her skin as he sinks into her, slowly but with purpose. She relishes the harmony of their combined moans as he buries himself to the hilt.

“Fuck, Bellamy… You feel so goddamn good.”

He huffs, “You’re fucking incredible.”

There’s a playful shift in the air as Bellamy wraps her legs behind him and tells her, "Hold on tight." She grins, squeezes her thighs tightly around him. He rises to his knees effortlessly, pulling her whole body with him while her strong legs keep him buried deep inside her. He sits back on his heels, then gives her thighs a squeeze, a signal to relax them. "Rest them up here," He tells her as he unwraps her legs and raises them so her calves rest on his shoulders. "Now sit up and prop yourself up with your arms behind you.” She pushes herself up on her elbows, then takes his hand, grunting at the sudden (and somewhat unwelcome) abdominal workout.

"This okay?" She asks, as she leans back on straightened arms.  It's an awkward angle, and she hasn't tried this one before, but she is always, always eager to try out the strange positions she sees in his films. 

He growls, "Fucking perfect." He wraps his large hands around her waist so his fingers curl behind her back, then moves. Oh god, he moves… He drives his cock up into her, guiding her position with the possessive grip of his hands. Each thrust hits her G-spot perfectly, and he knows it.  "Fuck, Clarke. Your tits are fucking amazing. Look at them bounce for me." 

To her credit, she tries to look, but the force of his hips makes it difficult for her to focus on anything. And fuck, each stroke of his cock against that spot feels fucking amazing.

For about two minutes.

She appreciates the view he's getting. He's nothing if not vocal in his admiration. But this is becoming uncomfortable as hell. Her upper arms start to burn, and while it isn't too big a deal at first, it soon starts to outweigh any of the pleasure she gets.

She drops a foot off his shoulder to kick her heel into his ass to catch his attention, "Bell, hey-" He halts and before he can ask, she laughs, "I hate this one. Let's switch to the next."

He chuckles, "Alright." Still buried inside her, he lets her other leg fall from his shoulder so her feet drop to the floor. He reaches over and grabs a pillow from the couch then places it on the floor. "Here, lay your head on this."

She gives him a grateful smile and he helps lower her down until she's flat on her back. She flops her tired arms down next to her and makes a mental note to augment her gym routine. She’s slightly embarrassed that she couldn’t keep up with him, but he makes no mention of it, and the rest of her thoughts vanish when she sees the way he ravenously watches her. She thinks he might actually eat her alive, and her body responds with an indulgent wiggle, as if to invite him to do exactly that.   

She fruitlessly attempts to contain a full-body shiver when he rubs his hands up and down her sides. He carefully guides her arms so they're stretched above her head, then smooths his palms back down her body. She feels her skin tighten up as goosebumps erupt in their wake.

“Put your legs around me again.” She does so without hesitation. His eyes scorch a path along her body as his hands wrap themselves around her hips. 

"Like this," He tells her as he guides her pelvis in a swiveling motion while he thrusts gently into her. Fuck, it feels good, and she gets the hang of it quickly. She takes over her own movements so his hands can wander over her body in the best fucking way. Both of them find their way to her breasts. She'd laugh at his predictability if it didn't make her feel so goddamn good.

"Your tits are so fucking fantastic." His hands are rough against her soft skin.

Clarke smiles, "Keep going."

He squeezes lightly, "Keep touching? Or a keep talking?"

“Both.” She tries to keep her voice even, but that proves to be an impossible task when his skilled fingers dance lightly over the globes.

He gives an appreciative growl and cups them in his large hands. He squeezes them together, and flicks his thumbs over her peaked nipples, sending sparks of sensation straight to her throbbing clit. Clarke loses her rhythm when he does it again.

Bellamy huffs, "You can feel that everywhere, can't you?" Clarke nods with an affirmative moan and an exaggerated twist of her hips. "And it's even better when when I do this-" He pinches her nipples between his fingers, and the sensation is nearly overwhelming. Her cunt clamps down involuntarily around his shaft and his hips surge into hers, as if by instinct. "Fuck... It feels so fucking good when your cunt squeezes my cock like that." He gives another pinch with a sight twist, and Clarke revels in his strangled groan when she clamps down even harder. She can't bring herself to silence her cries when he grazes her clit with his thumb, just lightly but oh, so effectively. It's already so swollen and throbbing that just light touches are painful.

She shakes her head, brows drawn together, “It’s too much, go to the side, Bell.”  He picks up immediately on what she needs and moves his thumb to gently stroke the side of her clit, drawing the hood back over it, taking care not to chafe the hypersensitive bundle of nerves. It’s fucking perfect and exactly what she needs to get there right now. 

His graveled voice dances across her nerves, “Jesus, if only you could see yourself right now, all spread out on my cock like this? You’re so fucking beautiful.”

Sparks of pleasure scatter along the surface of her skin while an exquisite pressure builds deep inside her core.

His graveled voice dances over her nerves, “You’re close, aren’t you?” 

She nods, and a ragged “Mmm hmm” is about all she can get out right now. She can feel the erratic quivering of muscles all over her body, as if her flesh is trying to make sense of every kind of bliss as it converges.

“God, I can fucking feel it… Baby, I wanna feel you come on my cock.”

Clarke nods, “I’m close.”

Bellamy suddenly rises to his knees. The resulting thrust is deliciously deep and pulls from her a licentious moan.

“Alright, come for me!” Bellamy pulls out, then drives his cock deep into her and holds himself there while his thumb still works her clit. Her body goes rigid with ecstasy and her throat protests her distorted cries as her walls clamp down around him. Swells of pure bliss surge from her core and down her limbs, out her chest, one after another until she dissipates into nothing…

She vaguely registers that Bellamy is holding her hips steady. His cock still fucking hard as he pulls out and guides her hips back down to the floor.

He takes his cock back in hand and slowly jerks himself off with one hand while he gestures with his other. “Bend your knees, then let them fall open for me.”  She complies and a thrill shoots through her at his lustful expression when she’s so obscenely exposed. “Fuck, Clarke. This is the best fucking view… Your pretty little cunt spread wide open for me…”

She can’t decide what to do with her hands. She tangles one in her hair while the other one roams slowly over her body. She clears her throat then begs, “More… tell me more.”

He smirks, he knows just what’ll get her going.  “Do you know how hot it is to watch your cunt right now? The way it still quivers after its thorough fucking?”

She nods, because yeah, she fucking knows. He increases the speed of his strokes just slightly when he tells her, “C’mon, I want to see you play with your tits.”

With a lazy grin, she drags her fingernails lightly up the center of each one so they form stiff peaks once again. Her movements are languid, and she knows he wants more. But she also wants to hear him talk…  

The strained quality of his voice is entirely satisfying. “Your nipples… play with them, Clarke.”  She pinches them with her fingers, tweaks and twists them just right. “That’s what I wanted… I can see your pussy clench when you do that, and it’s so fucking hot.” His filthy words ring in her ears, and she’s pretty sure this is going to fuel her fantasies for years to come. “Keep doing that, baby. I’m gonna come.” His strokes get faster, “You ready for a come shot?”

She nods, unable to verbalize anything beyond obscene groans because she’s so unbelievably turned on. It’s like being in her own personal porn film. White ropes of his come spurt out and fall onto her body from her tits, down her stomach, and finally right on her clit. The contact lights her body right back up, and somehow Bellamy can tell. He casually reaches down with one hand, still holding his cock with the other, because he knows how turned on she is by the image of his hand on his cock. He sinks two fingers into her cunt while he rubs his come all over her pussy with his thumb. Blood rushes in her ears while he thrusts lightly in and out, carefully draws his thumb around her clit but skillfully avoiding direct contact. Within a minute, a gentle orgasm washes over her. She closes her eyes while soothing waves of pleasure roll through her body, lulling her into a state of tranquility…

Eyes still closed, she feels the blanket underneath her shift as Bellamy collapses beside her. A grin stretches across her face when he lifts her up so her head is on his chest.

“Good?” Bellamy asks, caressing his fingers up and down her back. 

Clarke sighs, “Fucking amazing.” She drifts off to the beat of his heart, steady under her cheek.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Meet the family : ) 
> 
> KUDOS and COMMENTS are so very appreciated! It means the world to hear from my readers, so please take a few moments to leave your thoughts. When I get stuck in a funk and don’t feel like writing, I often get inspiration by checking out the last chapter’s comment threads. It's really motivating to know people are still wanting more of this story! (and the only way I'll know that is through comments, guys!) 
> 
> I’m also on [Tumblr](http://missemarissa.tumblr.com)! (@missemarissa)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke never ceases to surprise Bellamy. He takes a moment to verify the scene in front of him, because yeah, that’s his girlfriend, watching porn on her laptop. He recognizes it, one of his videos from before they met, and one of her personal favorites. 
> 
> ***
> 
> But first… Clarke meets Octavia :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Peeks out from behind rock* Ohhhh hey… Look who’s back!!!  
> Alright, this took too long, but hopefully the extended length (and profound filth) makes up for it??? 
> 
> I want to extend a heartfelt thank you to my beta, Amber. She’s a fucking saint. And to Maggie, for being my enthusiastic cheerleader and encouraging me not to throw in the towel on this chapter, or fic writing in general... Kayla, thank you for lending your culinary expertise and recommendations. And for routinely talking me down when I need it.  
> And, of course, this fic wouldn't exist if it weren't for [Mandy's](http://bittyab18.tumblr.com) raunchy prompt...

“Any last-minute tips for making a good impression with your sister?” Clarke asks in the cab on their way to Octavia’s. He wonders if maybe it wasn’t the best idea to mention Octavia’s inevitable interrogation. She’s been needlessly anxious about dinner since he told her. Okay, maybe the concern has merit. But still, he shouldn’t have told her so soon. It’s given her too much time to get worked up about it. A small part of him finds relief in Clarke’s concern. The fact that she so intently wants to be accepted by his family gives him hope that she’s as invested in this as he is.

Bellamy chuckles and wraps his arm around her shoulders, tucking her into his side, “Just be yourself... And don’t bullshit her.” He warned Octavia to play nice, but he knows his sister is fiercely protective. For years, she’s expressed concern that future girlfriends might not have the most genuine intentions when it comes to dating a porn star. He gets where she’s coming from, really. But he knows that concern isn’t necessary when it comes to Clarke. “You’ll be fine, alright?”

“Alright.” Clarke presses herself closer with a nod, but he knows she’s still not convinced. He gets it. They’ve both been so busy, they’ve barely had time for each other, let alone time to meet each other’s people. And for months, they’ve both enjoyed their comfortable Bellamy-Clarke bubble. What they have right now is easy, and they’re reluctant to complicate it. Sometimes he lets his head get away from him, and doubt creeps in. Like maybe there's a reason they've kept their relationship secret from friends and family. Like this is meant to be only temporary, after all. Maybe she wants it that way. It’s unspoken, but he knows they’re both aware that if they keep things uncomplicated, just between themselves, a clean break would be easier.

Thing is, even though meeting each other’s people is stressful, he still _wants_ it. And it’s not just because of some validation of their relationship. He wants the people he loves to know Clarke. He wants her to have the chance to know them. He wants to get to know more of her people (although he’d prefer not to meet them as awkwardly as he did Raven). And, as terrifying as he finds the prospect of meeting Abby Griffin, he wants that, too.

The cab slows down as they approach Octavia’s and Clarke takes one more deep breath before she untangles herself from him.

Bellamy presses a kiss to the top of her head. “Just relax.” He pays the driver, then follows her out of the cab. As it drives away, he tugs on Clarke’s hand and pulls her back to him until she stands between his feet, capturing her lips in a gentle kiss. Her fingertips are soft as they lightly trace his jaw. He makes no attempt to deepen it. He’s so completely gone for her, the slightest suggestion of sex will probably turn him on, and the last thing he wants is to sport an erection during family dinner.

She smiles against his lips before she presses one last kiss, then pulls away, still a little stiff. “Are we ready for this?” He puts his hands over her shoulders, rubs them firmly down to her elbow, then back up again. He repeats the motion a few times before he gives her shoulders a gentle squeeze. To his satisfaction, he feels her tension dissipate under his palms.

“Yeah, Clarke.” He tells her, his voice gentle and reassuring. “We’ve got this.”

“Okay. We’ve got this.” She nods and smiles at him with this open, genuine smile that simultaneously sets him at ease and sends his pulse into a frenzy. They make their way up the walkway to Octavia’s front door, fingers gently interlaced. Bellamy lets himself in, but still raps his knuckles on the door as they enter the house.

He calls out, “O? You down here?”

“Fuck, hold on!” Octavia calls from the back door. He hears something crash to the ground with a shatter. Alarmed, he and Clarke rush to the source of the noise and find her gathering pieces of a now-broken planter. He bends down to help pick up the fragments and cracks a grin at the string of profanities that leave her mouth. “Thanks,” she huffs, sweeping her hair away from her eyes with the back of her hand.  Clarke spots a broom by the wall, brings it over and sweeps the dirt and smaller pieces into a pile while Octavia and Bellamy deposit the larger shards into the dumpster. Octavia returns with a dustpan and sets it on the ground, holding it in place with her foot while Clarke sweeps the pile into it. The silence is painfully awkward. Now that the commotion has died down, he sees the patio table is set colorfully for tonight with Octavia’s favorite dinnerware. He can practically _taste_ what’s coming off the barbeque – Beer Can Chicken – and it makes his mouth water.

Octavia picks up the pan and walks it over to the trash can. As she returns, she tells Clarke, “You didn’t need to do that.”

Clarke eyes her carefully, unsure if Octavia is actually complaining about someone being helpful. “It was no problem, really.”

Octavia folds her arms low on her torso, tapping her fingers slowly against her elbow while she studies Clarke. “So, you’re the girlfriend?” It’s more a statement than a question.

Clarke nods with a smile, “I’m Clarke.”

Octavia narrows her eyes and gives Clarke another calculating once-over. Bellamy stifles a groan because they haven’t even been here for five minutes and Octavia is already bringing out intimidation techniques.

Bellamy reaches Clarke’s side and chastises his sister, “O…”

She rolls her eyes at Bellamy and extends her hand, an exaggerated smile plastered on her face. “I’m Octavia.” She jabs her thumb Bellamy’s direction. “His sister, as I’m sure you’re aware.” Clarke takes the hand offered with a smile, momentarily caught off guard by Octavia’s forceful handshake. She quickly compensates and Octavia gives what he thinks might be an approving nod. They’re interrupted by a beeping noise coming from the kitchen. Octavia rubs her palms together as she sidesteps Clarke to get inside. “I hope you’re hungry.”

Bellamy and Clarke follow her to the kitchen where Octavia darts over to the oven to pull out a dish of potatoes. Clarke cautiously asks, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Octavia shakes her head with a curt laugh, “Nope. Guests at family dinner don’t work.” Bellamy doesn’t miss her emphasis on the word _guest_ , as if to casually remind them that Clarke is _not_ family. Judging by the way Clarke’s lips press together, he’s willing to bet she picked up on Octavia’s intent, as well. She doesn’t look bothered by it. Rather, she acknowledges it with a nod and an easy smile. He reaches down and takes her hand in his own to give it a reassuring squeeze. Clarke looks up at him like he hung the moon, and he feels a contentment settle over him with her adoring smile. When the fuck did he get this lucky?

Octavia glances at the clock, then makes a sweeping motion with both hands as she shoos them out of the kitchen. “Bellamy, go keep her company while I finish up. Lincoln should be home any minute.”

As predicted, Lincoln arrives just as Clarke and Bellamy make their way out of the kitchen. He greets them with an effortless smile. “Bellamy, I’m glad you guys could make it.”

Bellamy nods, “Me, too.” He tells Clarke, “This is Lincoln, my soon-to-be brother in law.”

She and Lincoln share a handshake, “I’m Clarke.”

Lincoln asks, “I take it you’ve met Octavia?”

Bellamy laughs dryly, “Introductions were made.” He doesn’t have to elaborate on Octavia’s passive aggressive display. Well, maybe a little less _passive,_ and just straight aggressive.

Lincoln nods in understanding and reassures Clarke, “She’ll come around.” He adds, “She was… surprised to find out about you.”

“That’s understandable.”

Lincoln adds, “If it makes you feel any better, she’s spent the entire week making sure dinner is perfect. She wants to make a good impression.”

Bellamy’s eyebrows raise, “Really? She’s not exactly being friendly right now.” He’s relatively certain that her intent was more to make an intimidating impression, but keeps that insight to himself.

“Well,” Lincoln looks over toward the kitchen with a fond smile. “I wouldn’t read too much into it.”

Octavia calls out from the kitchen, “Lincoln, babe, get everyone’s drinks.”

Lincoln tilts his head, “You heard her. What can I get you guys?”

Bellamy chuckles, “I’ll take a beer. Clarke?”

“A beer sounds great.”

Lincoln nods, “I’ll grab those and meet you guys outside.”

They make their way out to the patio, where Lincoln reappears with freshly opened beers in hand, while Octavia comes out balancing a side dish in each hand.

Octavia sets them down on the table, then retrieves the chicken off the barbeque grill, where it’s still impaled comically atop a beer can. Clarke raises an intrigued eyebrow, but doesn’t say anything. Octavia sets the bird down on a serving dish and gestures at the other seats, “Jesus, everyone sit down already.” With a tense laugh, they all settle down around the table. Lincoln plates a salad and passes the bowl to Clarke. 

“This looks really good, Octavia.” Clarke says while she dishes out her food.

Octavia gestures at her brother, “Well, it’s one of Bellamy’s favorites.”

Bellamy adds, “Our mom didn’t cook a lot, but when she did, Beer Can Chicken was one of the staples.”

Clarke smiles, “It smells delicious. I can’t wait to try it.”

“What’s your favorite thing to cook, Clarke?” Octavia asks.

Clarke laughs, “Well, I wasn’t much of a cook before we started dating. Bellamy did practically all of it at first.” Octavia gives a grunt of clear disapproval, which is rich, considering she was exactly the same way with Lincoln. Clarke quickly adds, “But, he’s actually taught me quite a few things in the kitchen.”

Bellamy smiles, “You’re a quick learner.”

Clarke’s lips quirk into slight grin, “Still, I like to keep it simple – pastas are easy, and versatile. And that kind of thing fits into my work schedule pretty well.”

Octavia nods, “That’s right. Bellamy says you’re a doctor.”

Clarke swallows a bite, “I am. I’m still in my residency.”

“Aren’t the hours for that pretty shitty?”

Clarke huffs a laugh, “That’s about right. They’re tough to work with, sometimes.”

Octavia hums, “Bellamy works a nine-to-five now. I imagine that kind of discrepancy puts a strain on the relationship.”

Bellamy shoves at his sister’s leg with his foot. “O…”

Clarke answers easily, “In some ways, yeah. I mean, it’s hard not getting to see Bellamy all the time.” She reaches for his hand and gives it a squeeze, “But I think we’ve made it work.” Jesus, he’s grateful she’s willing to roll with this.

Octavia nods, “That’s nice. Have you thought about how you’re going to deal, when the reality of dating a porn star kicks in?”

Clarke asks, “What do you mean when you say ‘Reality of dating a porn star?’”

Octavia directs her attention to Bellamy, “You remember Mel? She was with Jason for months. We all thought that was going somewhere, and then she met his family and suddenly wasn’t good enough for him anymore, and that all went to shit.”

Bellamy sighs, “Yeah, O. I remember.” It wasn’t long ago, and Mel is one of his closer friends in the business. Everyone met her boyfriend, and he seemed genuinely okay with her job. He remembers the way she’d get when she talked about Jason – like she couldn’t vocalize the syllables of his name without a smile to go with them. Her eyes lit up the same way his own probably do for Clarke. He remembers exactly how crushed his friend was when Jason met resistance with his family, how hurt she was by the sudden distance. It didn’t take long for the relationship to come to an end after that.

Octavia looks over at Clarke, “Those kinds of realities.” 

Clarke nods, “I see.”

“Does your family know about Bellamy?”

Clarke takes a deep breath, “There’s just my mom, and no, she doesn’t exactly know about him.”

Octavia raises an eyebrow, “At all? Like she doesn’t even know you have a boyfriend?” Bellamy could do without the judgment in her tone.

Clarke shoots back, “We hadn’t told _anyone_ , until just a few days ago.”

Bellamy confirms, “Octavia, you’re the first person we’ve told, and you only found out this week.”

Octavia looks like she can’t decide whether to press on with that angle, or to be satisfied that she’s the first to know. “Well, do you plan to tell her?”

Clarke nods, “It’s not something either of us plans to keep secret.”

Octavia snorts and mumbles, “Well, you’ve done a hell of a job doing just that.”

Bellamy cuts in, pinching the bridge of his nose. “O, you know that wasn’t intentional.”

Octavia ignores him. “What do you think your mom’s reaction is going to be?”

Clarke thinks a moment, her fork suspended in the air. “I think she’ll be surprised I’m dating someone.”

Octavia gives her a level look, “I meant about Bellamy’s former career.”

“She might do a double-take. I doubt she’s ever considered that her only child would be dating someone in the film industry, adult-oriented or not.” She takes her food in her mouth, chewing it slowly. It makes him think about the Twix commercials, where the person takes a bite of the chewy candy bar, buying time to answer a question. Good tactic.

Octavia gives a thoughtful hum, “It’s something you should probably think about.” 

Clarke swallows and tilts her head, “I have. And honestly, I think she’ll be happy that I’m happy. I don’t foresee her having a problem with him.”  She adds, “And if she does, that’s her issue. It has no bearing on my feelings for Bellamy.”

Lincoln gives Clarke a supportive smile, and opens his mouth to say something, but Octavia cuts in, “Are you dating my brother so that you can say you dated a porn star?” There it is – the underlying question she was tired of dancing around.

Clarke nearly chokes on her drink. “Excuse me?”

Octavia raises an eyebrow, “Some people might get a kick out of being able to say they’ve fucked a porn star. Are you one of them?”

Bellamy puts a hand between Clarke and his sister. “Octavia, that’s enough!” He hasn’t used the stern, dad-tone in a long time, and Octavia looks as surprised as he feels.

Clarke puts her hand over Bellamy’s and calmly lowers it back down to the table. “I think if that was my objective, the novelty would have worn off long before the six-month mark.” 

Bellamy adds, “Now can you give it a fucking rest, O?”

She narrows her eyes, and he wishes he could say he’s surprised by her behavior. He knows it comes from a good place, but for all the stressing she does over him not settling down, she’s making a spectacular effort to drive Clarke away.

Clarke clears her throat. “Octavia, listen. I get that you’re concerned about my intentions with your brother.” She pauses for a moment to gather her thoughts. Shockingly, Octavia doesn’t interrupt. “And, you know, he is so blessed to have someone who cares for him as fiercely as you do.”  

Octavia nods and concurs, “We’re family.”

Clarke gives Bellamy a subtle smile, “And family looks out for each other. I understand that. But I care about him, too. I care a lot.” Bellamy feels his chest squeeze with something like relief and he can’t suppress a smile. Yeah, Clarke has told him she cares for him, so it’s not like that’s news. But something about her stalwart defense of their relationship makes his heart jump. Clarke finds his hand with hers and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “And I get it, maybe you need time to adjust. You’ve just found out about us. I just hope you’ll give me a chance. Because Octavia, I’m not your enemy here.” 

Octavia studies Clarke as she considers her words. The tense silence between them seems to stretch on agonizingly, but Bellamy refrains from interrupting.  Octavia looks over at Lincoln, then Bellamy, before her eyes meet Clarke’s again.

Finally, Octavia nods. “Okay.”

Clarke looks mildly surprised. “That’s it? Okay?”

Octavia raises an eyebrow with a teasing grin, “I’m sorry, did you want me to keep being a bitch?”

Clarke barks out a laugh, “No, that’s not necessary.” 

Across the table, Lincoln visibly relaxes, and Bellamy feels his own muscles loosen as the tension in the air dissipates.

Octavia gives Bellamy a smile that looks like an apology, and he returns it with a nod.

Octavia chimes in, “Alright. Starting over.  How about you tell us how you guys met.” The rapid 180 in her tone, while appreciated, is startling.

Clarke stifles a laugh and presses her lips together while she mulls the words around. “Well, I was at the corner market getting groceries and heard him in the produce aisle, talking on the phone.”

Bellamy adds, “Actually, I was on the phone with you, O. It was one of those nights you were telling me to get out of the house and be social.”

Octavia teases, “You’d have to be more specific. That doesn’t really narrow it down.” She looks back at Clarke, “Anyway, you were saying – you’re at the grocery store. Then what?”

Clarke chuckles, “Well, I guess you could say I recognized his voice. And I happened to be near him when he hung up the phone, and he had a question about the produce.” Bellamy is grateful she doesn’t mention the melon fondling.

Octavia laughs, “Sure he did.”

Bellamy clarifies, “It was a legitimate question.”

Clarke nudges his forearm with the heel of her hand, “Sure, and I was marginally helpful with my answer.” (No, she wasn’t). She continues, “Anyway, he said he was on his way to get something to eat and invited me to join him.”

Octavia gives Bellamy a proud smile, “Aw, Bell. You asked a girl out all on your own.”

He rolls his eyes, “I’m not completely incompetent.”

Clarke snorts, “I don’t know, Bellamy. I didn’t realize you were asking me out at first.”

He scoffs, “Maybe you’re just bad at being asked out.”

She shrugs with one shoulder, “That’s entirely possible.”

Octavia cracks up, “Oh, good, you’re both incompetent.” He feels a distinct sense of relief take root when he sees Octavia break out one of her true smiles. The ones she can’t fake. Octavia wears her emotions on her face, openly and without apology. It’s one of his favorite things about his sister, but at times, it means she’s abrasive as all hell. Clarke has managed to land in Octavia’s good graces with, frankly, unprecedented speed.

Lincoln huffs a laugh, “Sounds like it’s a miracle that dinner happened at all.” 

Clarke squeezes Bellamy’s hand, “Yeah, and I’m glad it did.” She looks back over at Octavia and Lincoln, “Anyway, before we could get into the awkward territory of _what do you do for a living,_ I told him I knew who he was.”

Octavia regards them both, “That’s a bold thing to admit.”

Clarke tilts her head, “I wasn’t shy about it. Or, at least not ashamed.” She grins, “I was very… familiar with him.”

Octavia nods, “Well I imagine that was kind of a relief for Bellamy not to have to tiptoe around that.”

Bellamy huffs, “There was no tiptoeing.”

Clarke and Bellamy share a knowing look and Clarke asks, “Is this the part where I claim I had nothing but pure intentions and we went on a ton of dates to get to know each other before taking our relationship to the next level?”

Octavia snorts, “You don’t need to lie to me.” She points at them both with her fork, “But please, spare me those details.”

Clarke laughs, “Deal… Anyway, in our conversations that night, I knew right away that I’d found someone I could connect with.”

Bellamy couldn’t wipe the smile from his face if he tried, “It was the same for me. I knew something was different with her.”

Octavia nods in approval, “Good.” She narrows her eyes, “Then, why _did_ you take so long to tell me?”

Bellamy snorts, “O, you just spent the last half hour proving exactly why.”

Clarke nudges Bellamy, “For _me_ , it’s been a case of _time flies when you_ _’re having fun_. It dawned on me just the other day that we’ve been seeing each other for six months, but it had gone by so quickly. Part of that was because yeah, we’re both busy people. But part of it was just- I don’t know, it’s hard to explain. I’ve loved my time with him, and it seems sometimes like I already can’t get enough. So I was like, _okay I could bring Bellamy to bar trivia night with my friends, or I could just skip the bar entirely and have Bellamy to myself_ …” She tilts her head, “And I know, it’s not healthy to monopolize your partner’s time, but that’s not how it was. I just wanted to have a little more time with him before I had to share him.”

Octavia hums, “Do you think your friends will have a problem?” Bellamy gives her a warning look and she holds her hands up, “I’m not trying to needle again. You just brought up friends and now I’m curious.”

Clarke shakes her head, “No. They’ll probably give me a hard time because quite a few of them are aware of my long-established crush on him.”

Bellamy grins, “She’s into me.” 

Clarke laughs, “He’s really humble about it, too.” She continues, “But really, we’ve realized it’s a small world, because we had connections we didn’t realize until after we got together.”

Lincoln prods, “Like what?”

Bellamy gives a lopsided smile, “Well, for one thing, she knows Monty and Miller.”

“Seriously? That is a small world.”

Clarke clarifies, “ _They_ don’t know that Bellamy and I are together, or that we’ve even met. But yeah, Monty is an old friend of mine from undergrad. I only just recently met Nathan, though.”

Octavia laughs, “And Bellamy probably already told you, he’s known Miller since before college.”

Clarke nods, “He did.”

Bellamy finds himself dragging his knuckles along Clarke’s wrist, “We almost met back in 2013, too.” He instantly wishes he could take the words back, because Octavia is going to give him so much shit if she realizes who Clarke is. 

“Pray, tell. How?”

Clarke looks at Bellamy, then to Octavia, “I, um, may have attended the AVN expo that year because I wanted to meet him. But it was a bust, because I basically froze when I saw him and then didn’t even manage to line up to get an autograph.”

Octavia snorts, “You and that other girl.” She gestures toward Bellamy, “There was this one girl that drove him crazy that year. I mean, he really tried to act cool about it, but he was pathetically head over heels for some girl he hadn’t even spoken a word to.” She cuts herself off with a grimace, “I probably shouldn’t be talking about his weird crushes to his girlfriend.”

Bellamy looks over at Clarke, who has tears coming out of her eyes. He’s momentarily alarmed that she’s crying, but realizes quickly that she’s laughing so hard it’s silent.

Octavia looks confused, “Okay, so maybe he did tell you?” Getting no answer from Clarke, she glances over at Lincoln, who shrugs, equally lost for words.

Clarke makes an effort to compose herself but only halfway succeeds. “Do you want to tell her or do I have to?”

Bellamy sighs and scrubs a hand over his face, “Clarke knows all about her.”

Octavia shakes her head in half-disbelief, half confusion, “Well, I guess it’s good you guys can laugh about it, then.” 

Clarke shakes her head, “No. It’s worse…” She presses her lips together and looks at Octavia, “The reason I know all about her is because… I _am_ her.” 

Octavia’s jaw slackens, “You’re fucking kidding.”

Bellamy laughs, “Not kidding.”

She gestures between Clarke and Bellamy, “So, Bellamy, you’re telling me that you just happened to run into your crush, who, by the way, I was not convinced _existed_. And you’re now dating her.” She shakes her head, “And she was into you this whole time?”

Clarke nods, “Basically, yeah.”

Octavia gapes, “You were other’s impossible crushes?”

Bellamy raises an eyebrow, “Impossible crush?”

Octavia waves a hand, “Like, the kind where there’s one in a million chance you’d ever actually meet them.”

Clarke laughs, “And we lived a few blocks away from each other the whole time.”

Octavia raises her drink, and everyone else follows suit. “Well, cheers to that.” Just before she brings the bottle to her lips, she adds, “That’s gonna be a hell of a story to tell your kids.”

That time Clarke really does choke on her drink.

 

 

* * *

 

Clarke never ceases to surprise Bellamy. He takes a moment to verify the scene in front of him, because yeah, that’s his girlfriend, watching porn on her laptop. He recognizes it, one of his videos from before they met, and one of her personal favorites.

He knows she's not expecting him. Their date night plans were derailed when he was called into work on short notice, but plans changed, and now he's standing in her doorway, watching her watch porn. She has her headphones in and her back is facing the doorway, and he knows he should probably do something to announce his presence, but she is so fucking hot like this. 

She's down to her bra and underwear, her leggings still hanging carelessly off one foot. He swallows a groan at the thought that that she was too horny to even get her pants all the way off before she started touching herself. She’s spread wide open, one leg slung over the arm of her chair, the other stretched out to the opposite side. Her panties are still on, and he _knows_ there's a sizeable wet spot there. Fuck, depending on how long she's been at this, they might already be soaked... He can’t see everything from this angle, but it looks like her hands are already hard at work – one busy between her thighs while the other kneads her tits. 

She lets go this sinful little whimper from the back of her throat as her head falls back, face all blissed out with eyes closed and lips parted. As he steps farther into the room, he hears a soft buzzing sound. A vibrator. He’s not sure which one – the pitch of the vibrations is unfamiliar, so he thinks maybe it’s a new addition to her collection. He grins because he's a big fan of her sex toys. It's always incredibly hot to watch her use them on herself, but fuck, he gets off big time when she lets him use them on her. Having her fall apart under his handling is basically the highlight of any day, and he's dying to try some new things on her.

Her whole body twitches, and he’s nearing the end of his own rope. Her breaths come quicker, her toes curl and legs tense up, and he knows she's close. Then, right before she comes, she backs off completely and turns the vibrator off.

Atta girl.

Bellamy sheds his jacket before coming closer to Clarke. He bites back a moan at the obscene display. Her tits are literally falling out of her bra. He wonders how hard she yanked the cups down to free them so she could fondle them properly. On her more patient days, she’ll tease the edges down slowly, bit by bit, until her nipples peek out just enough to meet the brush of her fingers. But when she’s in a hurry, when she’s insatiably horny, she’ll rip them down so fast she might tear the fabric apart. Judging by the harsh dig of her fingers into her skin, and the now-tattered seams of one of the cups, he’s willing to bet she’s been a little less methodical and a little more desperate. Decorum has been clearly shoved to the wayside in her pursuit of pleasure, and he won’t complain one bit about it.

Her head still hangs back, heavy and slack. Light reflects off the shiny blonde curls that bounce with each needy breath she takes. He can’t decide where he wants to touch her first. Yeah, he’s horny, and wants to get his hands on her tits immediately, but there’s a good chance she might not appreciate being surprised like that.

Clarke's smoky voice breaks him out of his trance, "You know, Bellamy, you're usually pretty sure with your hands, but if you need, I can show you exactly where I want them." 

With an amused huff, he comes to stand directly behind her. She pulls her earbuds out and lets them fall to the side while he gathers her hair into his hands and gently massages her scalp. "How long have you known I was standing there?"

She shrugs, eyes still closed, "Since you knocked on my front door."

“And you didn’t want to let me in?”

“You _have_ a key.”  

He laughs, "You little minx.”

Clarke hums with a satisfied smile while she wraps her small hand over his wrists and guides his hands down her chest. He takes the hint and teases his fingers lightly over her breasts before cupping them in each palm. God, he loves the way her tits fit in his hands. His self-control is tenuous right now, with Clarke sprawled nearly naked at her desk in front of him, working her cunt with a finger vibrator, and her other hand gouging her nails into his forearm. It's a lot to take in.

"You just wanted to put on a private show for me?" 

She nods with a sultry grin, "Mmm hmm...  How did I do?"

Bellamy answers by capturing her mouth in a firm kiss. She deepens it immediately with a chesty groan, the touch of her tongue electric against his own. He feels wet fingers on his cheek and he gets a little light headed when he realizes they’re soaked with her arousal. He grabs her hand by the wrist, holds it still and breaks the kiss, then brings her sopping fingers to his lips. He holds her gaze while he removes the finger vibe, then sucks them clean, one at a time.

“Fuck, Bellamy…” Her needy whine goes straight to his cock.

He grins and pulls his head back to get a good look at her, gorgeous and already so perfectly wrecked. He catches a flash of neon purple in the corner of his eye. “What have we here?”  He asks as he picks up the item to get a better look.

Clarke picks her head up and glances at the toy in his hands. “Oh, yeah. I got some new toys in the mail today.”

It is, quite honestly, the [most bizarre-looking contraption he has ever seen](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/71i7RH2pUYL._SL1500_.jpg).

“Okay. What even _is_ this?”

She laughs and points to a discarded box at the end of her desk. “The package says _Alien,_ which, that’s exactly what I’d think of by the looks of it.”

He turns it in his hand to view it from all sides. The base fits comfortably in the palm of his hand. The shaft extends a few inches before it splits, almost like two tongues that branch upward from the base, then part in opposite directions at the top. The whole thing is semi-flexible, and the silicone texture is soft and velvety. Almost skin-like. He holds the “+” button down and the toy vibrates with a deep rumble from several points along each shaft, from the base to the very tips. With a cheeky grin, he cycles through the vibrations by pushing the “+” again to achieve stronger stimulation in various patterns and rhythms.

Clarke gives him a heady moan when he separates the ends to see how far they’ll spread. He nudges her, “Look at that, it can be stretched all the way open.” She nods and buries her face in his arm. He squeezes the two stalks together so they meet in the middle and form a cylinder shape.

Bellamy moves his arm to get her attention. “Does it work?”

She blushes bright pink, from her chest to her cheeks, “It works.”

He hooks his finger under her chin and tilts her head to face him fully. “How many times have you come with this already?”

Her voice cracks just a bit (and just right). “Just once, earlier today.”

“Fuck… Tell me how you used it.”

She nods at his hands, where the ends of the toy are still pressed together. Her voice is breathy, and he’s pleased to see she’s barely holding it together. “Held them together, just like that, then put it inside me.”

He lets go of the ends and watches them spread apart. “What’s that feel like?”

“Oh god, it’s different from any toy I have.” She runs her fingers along the inside of one of the stalks. “It’s two separate vibrators, so it was hitting my G-spot really strong with one end and then there was this concentrated vibration on the opposite wall and it’s just…” She sighs, “Holy fuck.”

“Clarke,” he groans against her skin. “I really, really want to fuck you with this.”

She nods with this wrecked moan that makes his head _spin_. “ _Please_ , Bellamy…”

Without warning, he sweeps her up into his arms and carries her to the bed. “We’re gonna see how else we can get you off with this thing.”

He drops her onto the mattress and she bounces with a bright laugh, kicking her leggings the rest of the way off her foot. He watches with a slack jaw while she sprawls herself out before him. The tattered cups of her bra are still yanked down, which has a mind-blowing pushup effect on her tits. His eyes travel farther down and he sees the crotch of her underwear still pushed askew so her flushed labia are exposed. He considers telling her to pull them off, but decides that he’d rather do the honors. Clarke eyes the object in his hands with unmistakable lust.

“So, are you going to just keep staring? Or are you planning on using that?” She crooks her finger in a come-hither motion.

Bellamy rolls his eyes “Jesus, you’ve got no patience.”  

She shakes her head with an impish grin, “This is not news, Bell.”  It’s not. Her impatient sexual appetite has been boldly apparent from day one, and he loves it. She pipes up suddenly, “Oh, oh! Hook up my laptop to the speakers.”

Despite the distraction of a nearly naked blonde stretched out wantonly on the bed in front of him, he manages to tap the right buttons so the porn still playing on her laptop comes through the Bluetooth speakers. It takes a few moments to adjust to the sound of his own voice in the background, but Clarke’s lusty reaction more than makes up for the strangeness of hearing himself. As he takes in her brazen display, he knows it won’t be long before background noise is forgotten entirely.

Bellamy joins her on the bed, his knee causing a dip in the mattress between her legs as he parts them to make room for himself. He sets the toy by her head, then hooks his fingers into the waistband of her soaked panties. She lifts her hips up to assist as he pulls them down, and he grins at the way her tits bounce with the motion. Then, she lifts her legs in the air and brings them together so he can pull them the rest of the way off. Before she can put them down, Bellamy wraps his arm around at her knees, holding them together and keeping them gently suspended in the air.  He bunches her panties in his fist and lets go an aroused groan when he feels how truly soaked they are.

He turns and leans his forehead into her calf, “Fuck, Clarke, you got yourself so wet.”

“Yeah?” She sighs, “How wet?”

He gives her a wicked smile, and in an odd fit of inspiration, he presses the saturated fabric against the outside of her calf, then drags the garment up her thigh, his arm still wrapped around and binding her legs together at the knees. A sound tears from her throat, something between a moan and a squeal, and she squirms to lean into the motion of his hand.

It’s obscene, and she’s fucking into it, and it makes his head spin all over again.

“Bellamy,” She cuts him off, “Hold on.”

He frowns and lowers her legs, “You alright?”

She laughs, breathy, “Yeah, I’m good. I was just going to say, I got this one because it’s shaped so it can hit specific… areas.”

Bellamy raises an eyebrow, “Oh yeah? Tell me.”

She hums while she looks him up and down, “You want me to throw all the technical names at you?”

He grins, “Are you gonna talk nerdy to me, Clarke?” He teases, but they both know when she starts getting all clinical, pointing out anatomical structures and instructing him how to use them to get her off, the effect is… potent. To say _he_ _’s into it_ is putting it lightly. Not to mention, he gets a certain thrill out of being able to draw her out of her lecture-mode and turn her into a quivering mess after.

He rubs his palm down her leg, then wraps his hand around her ankle and picks it up, brushing his lips along her calf while she talks.

“You mean like telling you, there’s more than just the G-spot?” She picks up the toy and runs her fingers along the outside of one of the stalks. “You want me to tell you how this can reach inside me _just right_?” She taps him with her free foot, migrating slowly to his cock, where it strains against his jeans. “Or should I tell you how I can use it to get _you_ off a few ways, too?”

He scrubs a hand over his face, “Jesus fucking Christ… Yeah, I do.” She smirks, clearly satisfied with his reaction. He bends down and murmurs low in her ear, “I think you’d better show me, too.” Her full-body shiver is wholly satisfying.

Clarke sucks in a breath, “Of course.” Her fingers drag along his scalp before she tangles them in his hair and tugs his face away so she can look him in the eye. Her expression is deadpan. Completely serious. “This is a hands-on demonstration, Mr. Blake.”  

A lewd grin stretches across her face when he slams his eyes shut and groans, “Oh, holy fuck.” Because yeah, he will never again be able to hear someone call him by that title without thinking of Clarke, naked in her bed wearing nothing but a ripped-up bra and a filthy smile. He sits back up and looks at her pleased expression while she props herself up on a stack of pillows.

“You really want to know?”

He positions himself to face her fully while his hand rests casually on her bent knee. “Show me everything, Dr. Griffin.”

Her breath hitches and her eyes go dark. He smirks because he knows that all day tomorrow, every time someone calls out for _Dr. Griffin_ , she’s going to be thinking of this moment here. She gives him a congratulatory look for turning it around on her. Maybe it’s a little unfair, since she’s called by her title fifty times a day, while it’s rare for Bellamy to hear anyone call him _Mr. Blake_. Still. Two can play that game.

Clarke notes with esteem, “I suppose, after Saturday, I should be calling you _Doctor_ Blake.” She breaks the mood for a moment to shoot him a beaming smile, “Which, by the way, is fucking amazing.”  He smiles as a rush of gratification hits him because, yeah, he reached the fucking pinnacle of his academic pursuits. Leave it to Clarke to make him feel simultaneously sentimental and horny.

“Yeah. It is.” He smirks and teases his fingers along her inner thigh, “You know what else is amazing?”

“Hmm… Tell me.”

“Orgasms.”

She nods with enthusiasm, “Yeah, they are.”

“And you were gonna show me new ways to give them to you.”

She squeezes her legs together, trapping his hand between them. “I am.” After a moment, “But, I don’t want to be the only naked body in this bed.” She releases his hand with a grin, “So, take your clothes off.”  He’s not exactly proud of how fast he disrobes at her command. He kneels back down on the bed next to her, his right side flush with hers, then sits back on his heels. A licentious moan forms deep in her chest when her gaze drops to his cock, hard and jutting proudly from his body. She sits up straighter so she can reach him fully, then gently wraps her hand around his shaft.

“Fuck, Bellamy. You’re perfect, you know that?” Despite a decade of experience hearing that exact sentiment on the regular from his legions of fans, it means something entirely _more_ when it comes from Clarke. She twists her wrist a bit, “Just look how fucking big you are…” He sees her squeeze her thighs together, “I love how you feel inside me.”

Bellamy grabs hold of her wrist and stills her movements. “You’re supposed to be showing me how to get _you_ off, Clarke.”

She rolls her eyes, “Not _just_ me. You’ll see.” Her fingertips dance lightly along his shaft. “I told you, this is _hands-on_.”

“Clarke, it’s gonna be a little hard to focus if you keep doing that.” He warns, his voice low.

“I think you can do it, though.” She pouts but doesn’t let up on the teasing touches, “Can you focus for me, Bellamy?”  

He drops his head forward with a groan, because this blend of _authoritative_ and _needy_ is a lot for him to handle. He gathers his bearings, then picks his head back up to face her. “You have my full attention.”

She smiles, satisfied. “Good.” Suddenly her voice takes on this teacher-like quality that fucking _does_ things to him. “Now, as you’re aware, your pleasure organ shares certain anatomical similarities with mine.” He would probably laugh at the term _pleasure organ_ if he weren’t so fucking turned on. She gives his cock a squeeze as she parts her knees and trails her free hand to her exposed cunt, and _Jesus fucking Christ,_ that does not help the focus issue.

“Fuck, Clarke, you’re making it really fucking hard when you do that.”

She waggles her eyebrows, “Hard, huh?”

His head is swimming so deep in lust, it takes him a few seconds to pick up on his unintentional double entendre. He chuckles, “Yeah, Clarke. Hard.”

She teases, “What’s making it hard? Is it the way I’m touching you?” He huffs in affirmation, but she ignores it. “Or is it the way I’m touching myself?” Her vulgar tone pulls a sigh out of him.

“I think it’s safe to say it's both those things.” 

She takes hold of his wrist and guides his hand to her cunt, “Would it help if maybe _you_ were touching me instead?”

His voice takes on a strangled quality as he shakes his head, “Not even a little bit.” That fact doesn’t stop him from touching her. When his fingers meet her dripping cunt, it's like the air is forced out of his lungs, “ _Fuck,_ Clarke.” He accidentally brushes over her clit and her legs jolt with a surprised squeak. Just then, she draws her thumb over the tip of his cock and his hips jerk into her hand. She smirks, satisfied with his coarse groan, as she spreads precome over him. Two can play that game…

He dips his finger into her slit and draws out her viscous fluids. He spreads it over her labia, then gently gathers it just at the base of her hood so that it coats her clit as the hood draws back. Just as his finger lightly touches the tip of the throbbing bundle of nerves, her body jerks. She keeps the presence of mind to sweep her thumb over a place on his cock that makes his entire body fucking _sing_ _–_ on the underside, just on the rim of the glans where it meets the retracted foreskin.

She quirks a smile, “Does that feel good?”

He answers with a choked groan, “Oh… fuck.”

She sees him getting worked up already and her voice becomes even more instructional in tone. “Just under the frenulum is a very dense group of sensory nerve endings… So, the sensation of touch is more concentrated here than anywhere else.” She massages the spot again to emphasize her point.

He practically chokes, “Jesus fucking Christ, Clarke.”

She gives him a grin and drops her legs farther open, then goes suddenly slack-jawed as he presses his finger on her clit again, this time with a little more pressure. She responds in kind and he thinks he might fucking black out from the pleasure. Somewhere in his lust-addled state, he begins to register what’s happening in this call-and-answer of touch.  

“Oh… I see.” She meant _hands-on_ in the most literal possible way.

She sighs with a smile, “Now you're getting it.”

He nods with a lopsided grin, “Yeah, I got it.” He presses on her clit, moving it in gentle circles, while he watches her body twitch with pleasure. Her eyes keep losing focus but each time, she snaps back into herself before she's too far gone. She wiggles her hips a bit to the side, and he lets up on her clit, lets the hood slide back over it. His fingers explore just above, gently stroking through the skin on the ever-hardening nub of tissue. He grins at the little whimper she gives him as she moves her hand down so it surrounds his shaft, then slides his foreskin over his cock head. She rubs him up and down at the same pace he caresses her. 

“That good?” He asks when he drags his fingers over the edge of her slit, catching on her swelling inner labia.

She nods, “Fuck… Yeah, you’re doing real good,” and moves closer to the base of his cock. Finally, he dips into her with just one finger, hooking it skillfully against her G-spot. With a barely-audible grunt, she fondles the base and up along his length, but stops short of the head. She drops her head back while he adds another finger and keeps working her up this way, but she never slacks on her own task.

“What about this?” His voice is a bit choked while he withdraws his wet fingers and dances them lightly over her puffy outer labia. She exhales with a grin, trailing her fingers down until she can caress the skin over his balls.

Every place he touches her, she demonstrates the equivalent location (and sensation) on his cock. It’s fucking brilliant, and every touch ramps him up more. Just as he makes his way back inside her folds, she bends forward and, without warning, closes her lips over the head of his cock. He barely registers the warmth of her mouth as she sucks him down before he’s coming with a hoarse yell.

“Fuck, Clarke!” His free hand slaps against the mattress while the other darts to her head, wet fingers tangling in her hair while he thrusts up into her mouth, pleasure flooding through his body while his come surges out of him. “Fuck…” His chest heaves while he gathers his bearings. His hand loosens around her locks and he smooths her hair back from her face, the strands catching on the still-wet digits. He realizes with a groan that they’re still wet with _her_.

He laughs, “Jesus, you could’ve given me a fucking warning.”

She shakes her head while she licks her lips, utterly satisfied with herself. “Where’s the fun in that?” She smiles, so open and wide that his heart lurches in his chest. "Do you have any idea how hot it feels to be able to get you, an actual porn star, to come within mere _seconds_ of getting my mouth on you?"

He draws his thumb over the corners of her mouth, cleaning up the come she missed when she licked her lips clean. As if by instinct, she closes her mouth around his thumb and laves her tongue over the digit, greedily sucking off every last bit of it.

"Fuck, Clarke...” He gives her an easy grin, “Sometimes I wonder if you know your way around my cock better than I do."

Her eyes darken as she presses her lips together and rolls them against each other, giving them a deep red hue.  "Would you believe me if I said that's one of my life goals?"

He smirks, "Yeah, I'd fucking believe it.” Her unapologetic fixation on his cock rivals his obsession with her tits, and he fucking loves it.

She arches an eyebrow while she stretches her arms up and leans back against the pillows again. Bellamy follows her down and slants his mouth over hers, moans at the taste of himself on her tongue. She cups his face with one hand while the other one feels around for her toy, and she grins against his lips when she finds it. He pulls away with a knowing smile and sits back up, playfully snatching the toy out of her hand on the way.

Her legs drop back open, giving him an unencumbered view of her cunt, shiny with her juices.

He holds up the toy and asks, “So, exactly how does this work?” He gives it a glance, “What do I do?”

She shifts in place to get more comfortable. “So, what I was just showing you earlier, you know, all the places we were touching?”

He grins, “Yeah I recall some pretty specific… touching.” His palm travels along her upper thigh, slowly down, then back up again.

“You noticed, I spent a long time on everything _but_ the head, just getting everything harder.”

He huffs, “Impossibly hard.” 

She nods, “That’s because the tissue swells up with stimulation. And the more engorged it is, the more sensitive you are…” She grins, “You do the same thing to me, whether you realize it or not, when you’re working me over and ramping me up, touching everything but my clit.”

“When I make you fucking crazy for it?”  His voice goes deep, and he loves the way her body responds.

She shudders, “Exactly.” Her voice goes breathy, and he can tell it’s getting harder to verbalize complete sentences. Good. “By the time you get to where I want you, it feels so… intense. And it’s like the release is almost impossible to avoid.”

“Fuck,” He chuckles, because she’s not even really talking dirty, but it somehow still has an obscene effect on him.

She continues, “You know the clit is an extensive organ, and a lot of it is hidden.” She nods toward the vibrator, “The shape of this toy makes it possible to intensely target areas that are normally harder to reach…” She pauses to think a moment, “I could keep talking, but honestly, I think it’ll be easier to show you than to tell you.”

“Can I play a bit, first?” Bellamy doesn’t bother to stifle his eager tone. He fucking loves toying with her body, and he’s eager to see exactly how he can use this particular tool to take her apart.

Clarke nods, “God, yes,” and drops her head back against the pillow with a soft whimper. He turns the vibrator on and her body makes a tiny jolt at the mere _sound_ of the buzz. He grins at the sight and touches one side lightly to the skin on her abdomen. He watches her muscles jump underneath it, goosebumps form over her whole body as he tests the vibrations over her stomach. He drags the toy up to her chest and skates it along the underside of her left breast and his eyes are unavoidably drawn to her tightening nipples, hard and practically screaming for attention. She catches his slack-jawed stare and snickers at how predictable he is when it comes to her tits. The sound morphs into something of a ragged moan when he bends down and flicks his tongue over one nipple while he touches the tip of the vibrator to the other.

“Fuck, Bellamy!” She cries out when he engulfs her nipple and sucks _hard_. After a moment, he releases it with an obscene pop.

“I fucking love your tits, Clarke.” He traps her with his gaze while he switches sides.

She grins, “Oh god, I know you do.” She digs the back of her head into the pillow with an uncontained squeal as he repeats the action on the other side. He pulls back and blows gently on the glistening nub, then turns the vibrations off and brings the toy back to this side. She watches with lust-filled eyes while he gently widens the stalks, then traps her erect nipple at the apex of the two shafts and turns the vibrator back on. A guttural moan forms deep in her core and she arches her body, chasing more of it, twisting her fists into the sheets. “Fuck! Bell, That’s so-”

“Easy, now.” He splays his hand over her chest and presses her back down into the mattress.

She laughs, “Fuck you,” but settles back into the bed nonetheless.

“Soon, I promise.” He repeats the action on the other side, enjoying her equally intense reaction. She’s already fucking craving release, and he’s barely gotten started. He looks at the shape of the toy and an idea quickly forms. He turns the vibrator off again and tilts his head. “Hey, squeeze your tits together, I wanna see if I can use this to vibe them both at once.”  She complies with a filthy smile, pushing them together with her palms. Her hands are small and can never really _contain_ her tits when she cups them. He loves that. They fit perfectly into his own large hands, and he relishes their heaviness every chance he can get. But right now, seeing them spill over the edges of her palms as she presses them together? That’s a whole other level of hot.

“Like this?” She bites her lip with feigned shyness.

“Fuck… Yeah, just like that.” He lets the stalks of the toy spread to their resting state and holds it horizontally, so that each tip meets a nipple. “Ready?”

She gives a frantic nod, “God, yes, I wanna feel it!”

He shakes his head, “So impatient…” He doesn’t make her wait, though. He turns it back on and she squeals. Her back arches off the bed again, and she loses contact with the vibrations. “Hey, now. You’ve gotta be still, or you’re not gonna get what you want, will you?” Her responding whimper is fucking sinful. She settles back against the bed with a decadent wiggle and he places the ends of the toy back against her nipples. The muscles of her torso flex as she strains against the urge to arch into him. “That feel good?”

She breathes, “Yeah, fuck…” He shifts the toy to tease just below the areolas and she gathers her thoughts with a deep breath. “It’s not as intense as when you like, squeezed each one with the vibe…” He grins at her little squeak when he suddenly grazes her nipples for just a fraction of a second, then returns to the undersides. She laughs, “But fuck, getting both of them together like that – that’s good.”

He chuckles, “Good?” and touches the ends to her nipples again, this time keeping it in place, watching her fingers dig rhythmically into her soft flesh.

“Fuck! Yes, it’s fucking good!” He increases the intensity and she slams her thighs shut, squeezing them together with a throaty moan. He pries her legs back open with his free hand, then pins one leg down with his elbow.

“You feel that all the way down in your cunt, Clarke?”

She nods, breathing heavy, “Yeah…” He watches her clench down on nothing, and now he’s fucking dying to see what the toy can do. He draws the vibe away from her tits, much to her dismay. “Bell!” She whines, “I liked that.” If he weren’t so insatiably curious about how this thing works in her cunt, he’d go back up and pull a nipple orgasm out of her.

“I’m betting you’ll like what’s coming even more,” He teases, dragging the still-buzzing toy down her abdomen.

She sighs deeply and looks him in the eye, “Yeah, okay, probably”

He pauses, “You know what I want, though.” He quirks a lewd smile as he glances down at her tits, then back up at her eyes.

She gives him a knowing grin, “Lemme guess, you want me to keep playing with my tits?”

He nods and mouths at her skin, “That’s right.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, “So predictable…” She plucks at the nipple on one while she kneads the other with an indulgent moan.

“Atta girl.” He urges while he resumes trailing the vibrator down her torso, pausing just as he reaches her mound. With his free hand, he teases a finger at her entrance. She’s snug but so wet that he sinks in easy.

“More, Bell…” She bucks her hips up with a whine.

Bellamy shakes his head with a delighted tsk. “Already Begging…” He rewards her with a second finger, moving in and out a few times before he scissors them inside her. She squirms while he stretches her. It’s not like the girth of the shaft is anything significant. When both stalks are held together as one cylinder, it’s not remotely as thick as he is, but once the ends are released, that might be a different story.

“Alright, tell me, where do I go from here?”

Clarke halts the movement of her hands and takes a deep breath. “So, earlier today, I had both ends inside me.”

“I remember, you told me.”

She rolls her wrist and stretches the joint, then takes the toy from his hand and orients it so the ends separate vertically. “I had it in like this, so one end was focused on my G-spot-”

He nods, “Is that what you want me to do?”

She grins, “Yes and no…” She turns the vibrations off and presses the ends together so it’s in a smooth cylindrical shape again, then releases the ends. “You see how quick they separate again?” Bellamy nods and she clasps the ends together again and reaches over to grab the lube from the nightstand. She slicks up the toy while she talks, “To put it inside, the only way it really slides in _easily_ is if you start vertical.”

“Vertical?”

She grins and takes the toy, now slick and shiny, and brings it to her entrance. “Vertical - like the ends will open up and down.” She orients it as such. “Now, I’ll hold it closed. But can you push it in for me?” She bats her eyelashes teasingly. The transparency of the action doesn’t diminish the effect…

He scrubs a hand over his face before he takes hold of the toy base and nods, “Fuck… Yeah.” He slowly pushes it forward, watching it sink into her wanting pussy. Once it’s all the way in, they pause.

“This isn’t a _thrusting_ kind of toy.”

Bellamy huffs, “Yeah, I was kinda guessing that. The shape wouldn’t really be…”

“-comfortable, for that kind of motion.” She finishes the sentence.

“Tell me what it feels like,” He prompts, eyes fixated on the protruding base of the vibrator.

She shrugs, “You saw earlier, the ends don’t widen forcefully or anything…” He’s trying his best to keep his head together while she talks him through this, but this is all a lot to take in. The toy stays situated in her cunt as he traces his fingers along the contours of her outer labia, over her mound, out to the hollows of her hips. When he brushes over a particularly sensitive zone, her whole cunt clenches down on the toy. It’s fucking hypnotic. He looks up at her face and grins at her blissed-out state.

His unoccupied hand rests on her lower abdomen, elbow still pinning her thigh open. He brushes his thumb over her skin to catch her attention. He gets no response, so he gently jostles the vibrator. That grabs her interest. 

He gives her a grin, “You were saying?” 

She picks back up lazily, “Mm, it’s just a gentle stretch…” 

“How about now?” He asks as he turns the vibe back on. She squeals and her back arches off the bed before he presses her back down. “Easy, there…” She huffs while she settles back into the mattress. With the vibrator buzzing inside, her body doesn’t quite relax. A shiver shoots through her when he rotates it just slightly, getting a feel for where he might go from here. Just as he’s about to rotate it back, Clarke stops him.

“No, keep going.” He grins and does as she asks (begs, truthfully), turning the base and orienting it so it’s horizontal. At least he assumes as much, since the entire thing is currently buried inside of her. “Turn it higher – I need it stronger when it’s deep inside.”

He presses the “+” button twice. “That better?”

She nods, “Perfect… Now, angle it so the base is pointed down toward the mattress.” He watches her carefully while he does it. “Now, keep it at that angle as you withdraw it a bit.” He gives it a try, pulling it out a few inches but not getting much of a response, so he twists it and pushes it back in again. After some trial and error, she suddenly cries out, “Oh fuck, that’s good! Go back to that.” He does, and he can’t help but smile at her blissful expression – eyes closed, lips parted, breaths picking up bit by bit. His free hand returns to slowly caressing the smooth skin of her abdomen. 

“That feels good, what you’re doing, Bell…” 

“Yeah?” He lets up on her thigh so he can reach her tits. “How about if I do this?” His fingertips dance lightly over the pale skin of her breasts and her nipples tighten up even more.

“Even better…” She gives him a feverish nod, one hand fisting into the sheets by her side, the other one tangled in her hair. He smiles and gently rolls a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and delights in the way her whole body answers his touch. “Fuck, Bellamy, fuck!” Her hand darts up and grips onto his wrist as she curves her torso to chase his touch. He loses his grip on the vibrator when her body bends, but before he can try and re-situate it, she shakes her head, “No, there’s another spot I want to try.”

He raises an eyebrow, “And where’s that?”

She gasps when he flicks her nipple with his finger, but quickly regains composure. “On each side of my slit… The vestibular bulbs.” Christ, he should not be this turned on by the term _vestibular bulb_ _…_

He dips down and presses a kiss to her thigh. “Tell me what you want me to do, Clarke.”

“Pull it out a bit, but this time keep it more… straight, maybe angle it so the base is pointing up toward the ceiling…. The tip of each end of the vibe will catch onto the back side of both of them simultaneously.”

Turns out it’s much easier to hit the right spot for this, probably because it’s _right there._ He withdraws the toy and finds himself intrigued by the already-swelling tissues that are displaced forward with it. His gaze is drawn up to the quivering tip of her clit. He uses his free hand to gently tease the hood back and watches it swell and push outward. Her whole cunt is swollen and deep red, begging for attention.   

“Bell… come on!” She whines, watching his ravenous gaze on her pussy, squirming under his scrutiny.

He smirks at the way her engorged pussy clamps down when he blows gently over her swollen labia. He dips his head down and his tongue draws a wide circle around her cunt, going from the hollow of one hip to the other. The desperation in her moans is almost overwhelming as he continues to lick slow, broad arcs. She bucks her hips up toward his face, almost dislodging the vibrator from her cunt. His free hand returns to her mons, where he presses her back down into the mattress.

He lifts his head away just a fraction, still so close that he’s practically speaking directly to her cunt. “Need something, Clarke?”

She bites her lip and looks like she’ll cry. “Your mouth… tongue… fuck, _anything!_ ”

He licks a long stripe over her outer labia, “Right here?”

She shakes her head side to side, “Closer.” She bucks her hips against his arm but is unable to overpower the strength he uses to pin her to the mattress.

“Closer to what?” He asks before he tilts his head to snake his tongue between her folds.

She huffs, “My clit, Bellamy.”

He brings his thumb back down to draw the hood back and expose the throbbing nub, taking one last look at it before he descends and closes his lips over it. He barely gets a chance to apply a gentle suction before she comes _hard_ against his mouth while a wrecked cry escapes her throat. He’s careful not to touch the raw tip of her clit with his tongue, instead keeps his lips in place to suck her gently. With her orgasm, her cunt clamps so forcefully, the vibrator is forced out. He quickly replaces it with two, then three fingers, hooking them to drag them fervently against her g-spot while she continues to writhe before him.

Clarke digs the back of her head into the mattress while her back arches off the bed. He lifts his head back so he can get a full view of her as he takes her through one of the most intense orgasms he’s ever given her.

She’s fucking mesmerizing.

“Holy shit.”

As Clarke catches herself, Bellamy keeps his fingers in place, gently crooking them inside and relishing the erratic clenching of her walls around them. He finds his gaze transfixed there. He traces his thumb softly over the pulsating flesh surrounding her slit. The contact is quietly but intensely erotic.

He turns his face into her thigh but keeps his eyes on her cunt while he groans into her skin, “Jesus… That’s so fucking hot.”

Her voice is a mind-blowing variety of breathless, “What is?”

He presses a kiss to her milky skin, then shoots her a lewd smirk, “Pussy contractions.”

She sighs with a strong clench. “Oh Jesus Christ…” She turns her face to the side, her curls sticking to the sheen of sweat on her forehead.

Bellamy brings sweeps her hair away from her face, tucking the strands behind her ear. “You’re beautiful, you know”

She gives him a shy smile and tells him in a voice barely above a whisper, “Kiss me.”

He does. Her eyes flutter closed as their lips touch, and when her breath tickles his cheek, he knows he’s not going to be content just kissing her goodnight. She gives him a little whine that tells him she craves him just as much. She opens her mouth under his, pulling forth a current of unrestrained need.

He pulls fingers from her cunt and she audibly laments their sudden absence as he shifts on top of her, settling himself in the cradle of her open thighs. He holds himself up with one arm, brings his wet fingers to his mouth and sucks them clean with a filthy grin. Something wild flares in her eyes

“I need you, Bellamy.” That gets him every fucking time, and she knows it.

“Yeah? What do you need? Tell me.” He doesn’t really care how desperate he sounds now, not when she’s just as needy.

“You…” Her fingers splay over his chest. She holds his gaze as one hand trails up to his neck. The other finds its way to his cock, already hard for her, and wraps around with a strong squeeze. She pulls his face down so her lips almost touch hers, and he can _feel_ her words in his own mouth when she tells him, “I need you inside me.”

He smiles, “Yeah, I got you…” She shivers when he murmurs into her skin, “I’m gonna take good care of you, baby.”  

His hand glides all the way down her side until he reaches her knee, curls under it so it bends, then hikes her leg around his waist. She guides him to her cunt, rocking her hips up, sliding his cock through her slick folds to coat him in her arousal. She brings the head of his cock to her entrance and he presses in so very slightly, until just the bulbous tip rests inside her. She loves when he just stops here, makes her body buzz with anticipation. Her hands drag over his torso, fingers digging into his sides while her thighs flex and relax in succession. Bellamy takes one of her hands in his own and stretches her arm above her head. Their fingers interlace, and it feels like his heart is going to jump out of his chest.

He drops his forehead to lean on hers, “Fuck, I’ve gotta be in you, Clarke.”

She nods, frenetic, “Please… come on,” and surges up to kiss him, hot and eager. She squeezes his fingers tightly between her own, like that might spur him on. (It does).

Bellamy moans, _really_ moans, deep and unrestrained as he pushes in, nearly overwhelmed by the feel of her around him. She’s so fucking ready for him, slick and welcoming and completely perfect.

“Move,” Clarke urges, her voice raspy with want, digging her heel into his ass for good measure. He huffs a laugh and pulls out slow, then surprises her with a quick and hard thrust back home. She nods with an utterly satisfied grin, “Yeah, again…” Her breath catches in her throat as he repeats the motion.

“You feel so good, baby… so good.” They keep a desperate pace for a while, Clarke keening at the way his cock drags inside her just right. She hisses when he nips at her neck, groans when kneads her tits in his hand, grasping each one with a harshness to match their movements.

Then all at once, they change pace into something sinuous, deliberate, and entirely consuming. He fucks her with an aching slowness that pulls at something deep in his chest. His hips undulate, not even thrusting anymore… Just this deep, slow, rolling motion that draws gasping moans from low in her throat.  

Given how keyed-up she still is, and the way his pubic bone stays in persistent contact with her clit, it doesn’t take long for her to come undone again. “Fuck, Bell, fuck I’m-”

“You gonna come for me already?” She doesn’t answer but with moans and shakes, her muscles growing taut below him. “Let go, baby.” He coaxes her on because he knows it gets her going. “That’s it… Just let go and come for me.” He sweeps the hair from her face so he can see her fall apart while her whole body snaps like a rubber band. She comes with her lips parted in a silent scream, her cunt clenching down on him, and that’s all it takes to pull him right over the edge with her.

With jerky movements, he spills into her. His pleasured groans spark her wrecked cry, a filthy harmony if he ever heard one.

Bellamy collapses, face buried in her neck, probably crushing her but she doesn’t seem to mind. After a moment, he rolls onto his side. Their combined come drips out of her when he slips out and Clarke squirms at its stickiness on her thighs. Some primitive part of his brain is indescribably turned on by it.

Their heaving breaths even out while they recover, wrapped up in each other in every way. His thumb draws absent circles against her bare hip. The pads of her fingers trace along his jawline with intoxicating gentleness while she studies his features. The tranquil silence between them is easy, and he can’t take his eyes off her, still enthralled by her curiosity.

He’s almost startled by her voice. “I’d say tonight turned out much, much better than I originally anticipated.”

He grins, “Fuck, yeah it did.”

Clarke leans up to press a kiss to his cheek, but he catches her there and holds her in place while he covers her mouth with his own. They share one last burning kiss before she breaks away and turns around in his arms. She makes a happy hum as she settles herself, her back to his chest, drawing his arm more fully over her body.

Just then, she catches sight of the vibrator at the edge of the mattress. She grabs onto it and laughs, “There’s more I wanted to do with this.”

He raises an eyebrow, “Is that right?”

She nods sleepily, “Mmm hmm… Remember I was gonna get you off with it?” She can’t fight a yawn as she settles her tired body into his.

“Yeah, I remember.” He smiles and takes the vibe out of her hand, pressing a soft kiss to the side of her head, “Get some sleep, Clarke. It’s not going anywhere.”

Neither is he.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, so there are like ten more ways to use that vibrator. It’s a totally interesting (and quite frankly mind-blowing) little contraption, but it’s utterly frustrating if you don’t know what to do with it… Lucky for them, Clarke’s got that covered. ;) There were some pretty specific things I wanted them to do that we didn’t get to, but this felt like the right place to give them a rest. That being said, I’ll strongly consider bringing it back into play (*ahem* after all, Bellamy hasn’t yet gotten to feel its unique effects), if that’s something readers are interested in. **(That’s the kind of thing that would be perfectly relayed in a comment!)**  
>  I spent way too much time and sacrificed an appalling amount of my sanity on this, but it’s turned out to be one of my favorite chapters I’ve written (of all of my fics). If you guys enjoyed it, **_please,_ leave a COMMENT!!!** Seriously. I could use some validation, here. 
> 
> All your comments last chapter were amazing and lovely and truly appreciated! My slacker ass is obviously like seven months behind in replies… If you left comments on previous chapters, I’ll be responding to those soon! It means the world to hear from my readers, so please, take a few moments to tell me what you think. Fanfic writers slave over these fics for free – your feedback is our only payment. **KUDOS** are another quick and easy way to tell us (and other people) you liked this.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! -MM
> 
> Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://missemarissa.tumblr.com) (@MissEMarissa)


End file.
